the once-proud child

 but learn, while there are moments yet for teaching,
 the soul-song of the lover in the mist,
 and do not stop, while dreams are there for reaching.

 the once-proud child, tempted now, beseeching:
 the unknown holiday, the growing list --
 but learn, while there are moments yet for teaching.

 the agony of hope, the bright sun bleaching
 away the colors of the egoist --
 now do not stop, while dreams are there for reaching.

 have you yet found, in lecturing or preaching
 the truth behind appearance there -- the gist --
 so learn, while there are moments yet for teaching.

 the crying gulls of day, the night-owls screeching:
 the moments blended, tender, melting, kissed --
 oh, do not stop while dreams are there for reaching.

 how far experience is from all speeching;
 how long it seems until the next short tryst --
 you learn, while there are moments yet for teaching,
 and do not stop, while dreams are there for reaching.

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