The Year Outgrows the Spring

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The year outgrows the spring it thought so sweet,
        And clasps the summer with a new delight,
Yet wearied, leaves her languors and her heat
        When cool-browed autumn dawns upon his sight.

The tree outgrows the bud's suggestive grace,
        And feels new pride in blossoms fully blown.
But even this to deeper joy gives place
        When bending boughs 'neath blushing burdens groan.

Life's rarest moments are derived from change.
        The heart outgrows old happiness, old grief,
And suns itself in feelings new and strange;
        The most enduring pleasure is but brief.

Our tastes, our needs, are never twice the same.
        Nothing contents us long, however dear.
The spirit in us, like the grosser frame,
        Outgrows the garments which it wore last year.

Change is the watchword of Progression. When
        We tire of well-worn ways we seek for new.
This restless craving in the souls of men
        Spurs them to climb, and seek the mountain view.

So let who will erect an altar shrine
        To meek-browed Constancy, and sing her praise.
Unto enlivening Change I shall build mine,
        Who lends new zest and interest to my days.

from Poems of Passion by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1883)
Solitude	The Beautiful Land of Nod

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