I always believed that I’d catch up on the pile of books I have when I would no longer be a student. And now when I am working full-time, student days seemed easier when I’d have tons to study, both for classes and for the enrichment of my soul. Of course I can’t forget about the writing part.
Writing is something, I still do. I reckon the day I stop writing – that’d be the end of things for me.
But, sometimes I want to go back to the younger days without a care or foe in the world. Days when I’d stay engrossed in classics and short-story tomes when others would be out having fun.
This reminds me of a poem I once read…
Things That Never Die
The pure, the bright, the beautiful
that stirred our hearts in youth
The impulses to wordless prayer
The streams of love and truth
The longing after something lost
The spirit’s longing cry
The striving after better hopes
These things can never die
The timid hand stretched forth to aid
A brother in his need;
A kindly word in grief’s dark hour
That proves a friend indeed;
The plea for mercy softly breathed,
When justice threatens high
The sorrow of a contrite heart
These things shall never die
Let nothing pass, for every hand
Must find some work to do
Lose not a chance to waken love
Be firm and just and true
So shall a light that cannot fade
Beam on thee from on high
And angel voices say to thee
“These things shall never die.”
I have not been able to establish if these words are by Charles Dickens or Sarah Doudney (a lesser known poet from 1800s). If you know, kindly let me know.