I who have known thee, Birth, must know Death too: br As old, old men their children's children fold br In their gaunt arms, and though their blood be cold br Feel their own youth burn in them as they view br The features that were theirs — each sign so true br To their own breath and blood, 'tis as retold br Their very youth was, when they are so old, br By those who nothing of their childhood knew. br So even Death but a new birth may be, br And in some other star beyond to-day, br When we have put the use of Earth away, br E'en like those old men's children's children we br May see ourselves rise from our own decay, br The very offspring of our verity.