Comfortable youth is all worn thin.

A man's mind goes out

To the world round about.

At thirty-five I can begin

To forget that I am growing old.

But I carry near my heart more cold

Despair for every year I meet

More people in the street.

Now God be in my head,

As the old hymn said.

The women were young and pretty once,

A long way from here.

I see men broken by unspoken fear,

Men heavy with waiting; the will spoiled;

Their hour not near,

And the spring of time almost uncoiled.

They will not die of living, nor die

Of anything they lack,

Youth or a job or love or a good back.

God help me understand Him, too,

And what it was He meant to do.