My Descendants

    Having inherited a vigorous mind

    From my old fathers， I must nourish dreams

    And leave a woman and a man behind

    As vigorous of mind， and yet it seems

    Life scarce can cast a fragrance on the wind，

    Scarce spread a glory to the morning beams，

    But the torn petals strew the garden plot；

    And there‘s but common greenness after that.

    And what if my descendants lose the flower

    Through natural declension of the soul，

    Through too much business with the passing hour，

    Through too much play， or marriage with a fool？

    May this laborious stair and this stark tower

    Become a roofless ruin that the owl

    May build in the cracked masonry and cry

    Her desolation to the desolate sky.

    The Primum Mobile that fashioned us

    Has made the very owls in circles move；

    And I， that count myself most prosperous，

    Seeing that love and friendship are enough，

    For an old neighbour‘s friendship chose the house

    And decked and altered it for a girl‘s love，

    And know whatever flourish and decline

    These stones remain their monument and mine.