Lord Frederick Leighton Perseus and Andromeda painting

Lord Frederick Leighton Perseus and Andromeda paintingLord Frederick Leighton Daedalus and Icarus paintingLord Frederick Leighton Actaea the Nymph of the Shore painting
winter term was over; paused a moment to reflect, and found myself thirty-two. What gets better? Confronting a class I forgot what my opinion was about anything, and had to feign illness. Famous men died; the political situation deteriorated. No longer could I eat at bedtime as a young man does and still sleep soundly. Fewer social invitations; presently none. The polar ice-cap, scientists warned, is going to melt. The population problem admits of no solution. "Today's freshman is more serious about his studies than were his predecessors -- but is he also perhaps less inclined to think for himself?" Yesterday one was twenty; tomorrow one dies of old age.
In unnaturally clear March twilight when the air is chill, one reflects upon passionate hearts now in their graves and wishes that the swiftly running hours were more intense. Young men and girls cut off while their blood flamed, sleeping in the fields now; old folks expiring with the curse; the passionately good, the passionately wicked -- all in their tombs, soft-lichened, and the little flowers nodding. One yearns