In one sense, man is ever young, fresh, buoyant. As the sun never ceases to send forth its rays of light, so does man ceaselessly radiate the vigorous, energizing animation of youthful being. Like the earth which never fails to revolve upon its axis, so does man ever declare the restful activity of one eternal spring. In spite of the material evidence bearing witness to the belief of age, still in the heart of humanity glows that spark of reality which knows that freshness and fairness continue as an eternal verity.
The poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, hints this truth in his poem, "Youth and Age." While lamenting that youth had fled, he says:—
Ah woful Ere,
Which tells me. Youth's no longer here!
O, Youth! for years so many and sweet,
Tis known, that Thou and I were one,
I'll think it but a fond conceit.—
It cannot be, that Thou art gone!
