An Old Poem

By George Sterling

So long ago I penned the words I read,
That now it seems a stranger's hand had writ
These alien lines, forgotten until now.
And am I not a stranger to those years?

Ah! Slowly, and by what accord of Time,
The tides of change have had their labor here,
Shifting the shorelines of the land I knew,
Till what I dreamt was truth seems truth no more!

Is Wisdom of the heart or of the head?
Within the golden temple or the grey
Shall seekers find her altar? Two have faced
The eternal Sphinx: was youth the wiser one?

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