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Poem	Full fifty merry maids I heard One summer morn a-singing; And each was like a joyous bird With spring-clear not a-ringing. It was an old-time soldier song That held their happy voices: Oh how it's good to swing along When youth rejoices! Then lo! I dreamed long years had gone, They passed again ungladly. Their backs were bent, their cheeks were wan, Their eyes were staring sadly. Their ranks were thinned by full a score From death's remorseless reaping Their steps were slow, they sang no more,-- Nay, some were weeping. Dark dream! I saw my maids today Singing so innocently; Their eyes with happiness were gay, They looked at me so gently. Thought I: Be merry in your youth With hearts unrueing: Thank God you do not know the truth Of Life's Undoing!
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