Sadly as some old medieval knight
Gazed at the arms he could no longer
wield,
The sword two-handed and the shining
shield
Suspended in the hall, and full in sight,
While secret longings for the lost delight
Of tourneys or adventure in the field
Came over him, and tears but half con-
cealed
Trembled and fell upon his beard of
white,
So I behold these books upon their shelf,
My ornaments and arms of other days;
Not wholly useless, though no longer
used,
For they remind me of my other self,
Younger and stronger, and the pleasant
ways
In which I walked, now clouded and
confused.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow