Once, long ago, a friend gave me a book Of poems -- gems, the fruit of many minds; I read them, thoughtless of the toil they took -- The words moved softly as a stream that winds. But now I know the lines I glibly read Perhaps were born of pain -- a broken heart; Regret that followed with its stealthy tread -- The arrow of remorse with searching dart. For wisdom comes with time's stern tutelage; The years are keys, unlocking many a door; And sometimes as I read mist blurs the page, Here soul meets soul, a precious golden store. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SORROW by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING by ROBERT FROST LITTLE GIFFEN by FRANCIS ORRERY TICKNOR THE DALLIANCE OF THE EAGLES by WALT WHITMAN TO SLEEP, WHEN SICK OF A FEVER by PHILIP AYRES EUTERPE by LUCIUS MORRIS BEEBE THE SPINNING-WHEEL (YONDERLAND SONG) by LYA BERGER OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 26. ELEGIAC VERSE: THE NINETH EPIGRAM by THOMAS CAMPION |