The Years

In recent times I've tried to make it a habit to read Donne's The Anniversary on this date. I loved it, and everything else by the great Dean, when I first read it aged sixteen. But now it means so much more. In fact, I sometimes wonder if it isn't more real to me than it was to its writer. I can recite most of its lines with utter conviction, especially, Let us love nobly, and live, and add again / Years and years unto years...