I

As newer comers crowd the fore,

   We drop behind.

—We who have laboured long and sore

   Times out of mind,

And keen are yet, must not regret

   To drop behind.

II

Yet there are of us some who grieve

   To go behind;

Staunch, strenuous souls who scarce believe

   Their fires declined,

And know none cares, remembers, spares

   Who go behind.

III

’Tis not that we have unforetold

   The drop behind;

We feel the new must oust the old

   In every kind;

But yet we think, must we, must we,

   Too, drop behind?