Fifty -One Fifty-one's a broad, slow-moving river In between the fall-line and the sea: Flowing full of rich, red-tinted clay, Taking much encountered on the way, Yet looking towards the teeming shores to be. One must be a taker and a giver: Needing, loving, wanting, swept away. Even rivers cannot help obey.   For All That You Have Given Me For all that you have given me, I can return but love. For you Bound up the wounds I did not see And gave me hopes and passions new. I can return but love for you, Whose unmoved faith my heart did move, And gave me hopes and passions new, And loved me till I turned to love. Whose unmoved faith did my heart move? The mother of my heart, not blood, Who loved me till I turned to love. And I became the soul I would. The mother of my heart, not blood, Bound up the wounds I did not see. And I became the soul I would For all that you have given me.   Forever Is like Getting Off a Train Forever is like getting off a train: Outside the landscape listens, holds its breath; Racing hedges stop, the mountains pause, Trees wait on the wind, as still as death. Yet far off, a whistle sounds again. So may we, though trapped within our motion, Imaginatively step beyond its laws: X's on the surface of an ocean.   Friends in High School Are Forever Young Friends in high school are forever young. Unchanged, they're where you always will belong. The crowd is never gone, the pleasure stays, The music of the moment always plays, The time remains a field of wistful grace To which you may return from anyplace. Of course, you may still know them later on When you are someone else and years have run; And you may love them dearly, and they you, But time must make their friendship something new. Meanwhile, flourishing within your heart There is a whole, of which you were a part: A group of friends, one in love and pain, In whom your longing comes alive again.