Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

“ Where the gray colts and the ten-year-old fillies,
Saturday's triumph and joy?
Gone, like our friend πόὂας ὠκὺς Achilles,
Homer's ferocious old boy.
Die-away dreams of ecstatic emotion,
Hopes like young eagles at play,
Vows of unheard-of and endless devotion,
How ye have faded away!
Yet, though the ebbing of Time's might river
Leave our young blossoms to die,
Let him roll smooth in his current forever,
Til the last pebble is dry. ”