Do I have to tell you anything about Charles Kingsley?
I expect not - as most of you will know that he was the Victorian writer of the classic children's story "The Water Babies"(1863), a kind of fairytale about a boy chimney-sweep.
Today's poem is taken from that work.
YOUNG AND OLD
from The Water Babies
When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen;
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.
When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down:
Creep home and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among:
God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young.
Charles Kingsley
