Would I might mend the fabric of my youth Which daily flaunts its tatters to my eyes, Would I might compromise awhile with truth Until love's moon, now waxing, wanes and dies. For I would go a further while with you And drain this Cup of Joy so passing fair, Which meets my parching lips like cooling dew 'Ere time has brushed cold fingers through my hair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JANUARY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ALL THAT'S PAST by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE BRACELET: TO JULIA by ROBERT HERRICK SOMETIMES by THOMAS SAMUEL JONES JR. THE GIRL OF ALL PERIODS; AN IDYLL by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE LET NO CHARITABLE HOPE by ELINOR WYLIE LOST HAPPINESS by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN - PROLOGUE FOR MISS FONTENELLE by ROBERT BURNS THE CONTRAST BETWEEN TWO LORDS AT THEIR EXECUTION by JOHN BYROM |