Not this the Wish in life's first, gayest page, Becomes your opening years and golden prime; Not these the hopes should your soft thoughts engage, Whose buds of joy are yet uncropt by Time. When blood begins to creep, when fled is youth, And nature verges toward lethargic rest, Gardens and groves the languid mind may soothe, And fire-side comforts satisfy the breast. For you, quick Fancy spreads her brightest stores, Paints high the colour of each opening joy, Enthusiastic hope to rapture soars, And untried scenes the busy thoughts employ. O may her soft enchantment late prolong The fond romance of innocence and youth! To elder life no happier hours belong, No richer cordial dealt by hoary Truth. Nor fear, while you the gaudy dream pursue, Life's serious aim and sober joys to miss: While fluttering pulses dance, and scenes are new, Your Wish is transport, and your Hopes are bliss. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD by SAM WALTER FOSS IT'S A QUEER TIME by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES A SONG TO DAVID by CHRISTOPHER SMART DICING by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS SONNET: EUTERPE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE CARPENTER'S STORY by ARCHIE BINNS PERCH FISHING by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN MAXIMS FOR THE OLD HOUSE: THE PLASTER ON THE CHIMNEY by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |