TO LIONEL PHILLIPS

Time, they say, must the best of us capture,

And travel and battle and gems and gold

No more can kindle the ancient rapture,

For even the youngest of hearts grows old.

But in you, I think, the boy is not over;

So take this medley of ways and wars

As the gift of a friend and a fellow-lover

Of the fairest country under the stars.

J. B.