On Grey Hair Poem by Joanna Baillie

THOU , whom the giddy mock, the gay deride,
Protracted folly's scourge, and foe to pride,
I'll meet thee, poor, pale omen of decay,
With all the little wisdom that I may;
And hail thee, herald of the tranquil hour,
Of calm sensations, and high reason's power,
Of just ambition, to whose flight is given
No sordid check, but still aspires to Heaven.
Let others spurn thee,--I, without a dread,
Welcome thy long-lov'd honors to my head;
I will, but, like a bee of vagrant wing,
That trifled o'er the treasures of the spring,
Research the garden with a nicer care,
Extend a wider flight thro' fields of air,
Or deeper probe the nectar'd flow'ret's bell,
To bring the honied wisdom to my cell;
Laden with sweets, and treasuring up the store,
I'll dread life's coming wintry storms no more.
Yes, yes!--thy monitory voice I hear,
Low numbering all the evils in thy rear;
The wrinkled front, dim eye, and pallid cheek,
Are but the preludes to the general wreck.

But can no other charm their loss supply?
And is there left no light t' illume the eye?
Yes, it shall kindle at a friend's return;
Tears shall suffuse it if a friend shall mourn;
O'er earth its views benevolent be given,
And faith shall fix its hallow'd gaze on Heaven.
Nor with a pencil dipt in sordid care,
Shall time's deep furrow on my brow appear;
But there shall sit, as years successive roll,
The calm unclouded sunshine of the soul:
Wit's ready sallies we may well resign,
The lip of truth and kindness shall be mine.
And 'tis the meed of blameless life the while,
To dress the placid features in a smile.
Then age, dear honorable age! I'll throw
Youth's many mingled chaplet from my brow
With meek propriety, and in its room,
The decent coif, and sober stole assume;
Nor fear, tho' gayer charms may fade away,
Aught that we lov'd in love can e'er decay.
Of that fond tie that made us man and wife,
Full half the bargain was the wane of life:
Earth's feeble bonds with what is earthly sever,
But they who truly love unite for ever.
Rich in that love, in honor'd wisdom's store,
I'll dread life's coming wintry storms no more.