Literature And Art For Old Gentlemen

Rhymes and Sketches by

GILBERT CHESTERTON

London: R. Brimley Johnson 8, York Buildings, Adelphi

1900

A DEDICATION

TO E.C.B.

He was, through boyhood's storm and shower, My best, my nearest friend; We wore one hat, smoked one cigar, One standing at each end.

We were two hearts with single hope, Two faces in one hood; I knew the secrets of his youth; I watched his every mood.

The little things that none but I Saw were beyond his wont, The streaming hair, the tie behind, The coat tails worn in front.

I marked the absent minded scream, The little nervous trick Of rolling in the grate, with eyes By friendship's light made quick.

But youth's black storms are gone and past, Bare is each aged brow; And, since with age we're growing bald, Let us be babies now.

Learning we knew; but still to day, With spelling book devotion, Words of one syllable we seek In moments of emotion.