The Fountain Of Youth

The fount the Spaniard sought in vain     Through all the land of flowers     Leaps glittering from the sandy plain     Our classic grove embowers;     Here youth, unchanging, blooms and smiles,     Here dwells eternal spring,     And warm from Hope's elysian isles     The winds their perfume bring.     Here every leaf is in the bud,     Each singing throat in tune,     And bright o'er evening's silver flood     Shines the young crescent moon.     What wonder Age forgets his staff     And lays his glasses down,     And gray-haired grandsires look and laugh     As when their locks were brown!     With ears grown dull and eyes grown dim     They greet the joyous day     That calls them to the fountain's brim     To wash their years away.     What change has clothed the ancient sire     In sudden youth? For, to!     The Judge, the Doctor, and the Squire     Are Jack and Bill and Joe!     And be his titles what they will,     In spite of manhood's claim     The graybeard is a school-boy still     And loves his school-boy name;     It calms the ruler's stormy breast     Whom hurrying care pursues,     And brings a sense of peace and rest,     Like slippers after shoes. -     And what are all the prizes won     To youth's enchanted view?     And what is all the man has done     To what the boy may do?     O blessed fount, whose waters flow     Alike for sire and son,     That melts our winter's frost and snow     And makes all ages one!     I pledge the sparkling fountain's tide,     That flings its golden shower     With age to fill and youth to guide,     Still fresh in morning flower     Flow on with ever-widening stream,     In ever-brightening morn, -     Our story's pride, our future's dream,     The hope of times unborn!