I am alone. I look up. As memories fade into the past. Preserved there, they sleep like seeds Buried beneath the soil of passing seasons, Only to awake as the ancient moment Which guards the gates of morning. Yet all of them Are wide and deep.
True thoughts are both wide and deep, Deep, and wide.
Yet all of them Are wide and deep. So give me an ocean of thought That is both wide and deep, And let me travel its waves, And sink to its depths. First on the endless passing of the years, And then the knowledge that our lives must end. When to the call of age our limbs must bend, On youthful times we should reflect with tears, And then the knowledge that our lives must end. The days of joyful, budding love do lend A cheerful certainty which calms our fears.