The salvage of vanished years,
⁠The record of moods passed by,
Vain laughter and vainer tears,
⁠A smile followed fast by a sigh.

Ah yes! I own much contradiction's here,
And thought perchance not wholly sound or clear;
But youth with manhood's inconsistent still,
And manhood mocks at age's cautious chill:
Enough if through the whole there runs the thread
Of a soul resolved where conscience loads to tread.