A power is on me, and my soul must speak br To thee, thou grey, grey man, whom I behold br With those white-headed children. I am bold br To commune with thy setting, and to wreak br My doubts on thy grey hair; for I would seek br Thee in that other world, but I am told br Thou goest elsewhere and wilt never hold br Thy head so high as now. Oh I were weak, br Weak even to despair, could I forego br The tender vision which will give somehow br Thee standing brightly one day even as now! br Thou art a very grey old man, and so br I may not pass thee darkly, but bestow br A look of reverence on thy wrinkled brow.