All Fools' Day

Now is the day when arrant fools
  Play outworn tricks on sober men!
But, for the thoughtful soul that schools
  His mind to conning o'er again
Past folly, that he may see clear
  Faults of commission and neglect,
This is the day in all the year
  For help-inducing retrospect!

Myself, when young and confident,
  Walked ever proudly on my way;
With eyes set onward as I went
  I gave small heed to yesterday.
But, growing old, the once bright star
  Waned to a faint and sickly flame;
So faint I'd turn and gaze afar
  For help along the way I came.

A chastening exercise for me --
  This yearly task of harking back;
For what a piteous fool I see
  Comes tumbling up that thorny track!
I would cast ashes on my head
  Did consolation not recall
That in the end, when all is said,
  Both young and old, well -- aren't we all?