ENDYMION

The world darkens, everything grows old,
Yet all is not lost, for treacherous youth
Continues at its play, blinking the truth:
Nothing is lost until the sum is told.

Youth is a victory, age a defeat,
And victory will dazzle while it can:
The game is blinding to the growing man;
It is the growth which fosters the deceit.

Hope and intention will accompany
The body which grows strong and beautiful:
It can what it could not: the moon at full
Forgets her light is borrowed. She can see

And so comes down to stroke Endymion
As if she were the queen that made the light,
And so they struggle in a double night,
...