She, who but late in beauty's flower was seen, Proud of her auburn curls and noble mien -- Who froze my hopes and triumphed in my fears, Now sheds her graces in the waste of years. Changed to unlovely is that breast of snow, And dimmed her eye, and wrinkled is her brow; And querulous the voice by time repressed, Whose artless music stole me from my rest. Age gives redress to love; and silvery hair And earlier wrinkles brand the haughty fair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRIAR JEROME'S BEAUTIFUL BOOK; A.D. 1200 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE DIVINITY by MATTHEW ARNOLD SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 31. A QUESTION by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) WRESTLING by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 8 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT CROMWELL'S REFLECTIONS ON 'KILLING NO MURDER' by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON |