THESE market-dames, mid-aged, with lips thin-drawn, And tissues sere, Are they the ones we loved in years agone, And courted here? Are these the muslined pink young things to whom We vowed and swore In nooks on summer Sundays by the Froom, Or Budmouth shore? Do they remember those gay tunes we trod Clasped on the green; Aye; trod till moonlight set on the beaten sod A satin sheen? They must forget, forget! They cannot know What once they were, Or memory would transfigure them, and show Them always fair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD FRIDAY HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE ITINERANT POET'S ROAD SONG by KAREN SWENSON SONNET TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI by DANTE ALIGHIERI ADVICE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE LILY IN CRYSTAL by ROBERT HERRICK LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI by JOHN KEATS MORE WALKS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM PSALM 3; WHEN HE FLED FROM ABSALOM; AUGUST 9, 1653 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |