Foolish Continuance Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I and my Foolish Continuance,
What will it all bring?
Shall it give me a further chance?
What shall tomorrow sing?
Give me a morn splendor and new,
Everything fresh to the first;
Only a song for the very few,
What they will long for and thirst.

Can I not bring into the light?
Yearnings that I thought were gone;
Give it another new flight,
Until the wings are done.
Why am I so out everywhere searching?
Living in past and longing;
What will the day tomorrow sing?
When we are nearer to spring.

I and my Foolish Continuance,
But all is though with my thought;
I have seen it at first glance,
Everything that chances have brought.
Why am I so out everywhere searching?
When I am growing too old;
Should I not be more alerting?
For nothing for real I can hold.