Should wilding foot no more this woodpath follow, My heart too dull, my knee too stiff to crouch Searching with spring the elusive barren hollow Where ladyslippers hand a pink-veined pouch; When eyes, beside these meadows bronzed and fallow Kindle no more incredulous to behold The gleaming trumpet of the August mallow, -- Ah then I shall be old, -- dear God, how old! Should I forget in reminiscent greeting To scuff Fall's golden pool of crackling leaves, Or fail to hear an elfin footfall fleeting Between the pumpkins and the harvest sheaves; If with these dawns my sleepless spirit treading Beside my bed should no good-morrow say As sunrise on the tingling marshland spreading Unrolls bright arras for the feet of day; If I should cease to hail as hidden treasure The violet gentian by October's stream, Nor pause in rapture's wonderment to measure These twilight valleys steeped in purpled dream; If stolid ear, when wind and storm make battle, Hear only rain and wailing solitude, Or should I see in sun and air and cattle Mere light and breath and my habitual food; -- I shall be old indeed, in age more tragic Than age can ever be for alien eye; Should earth and season lose their ancient magic, My heart long dead, grant body, too, may die! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR LOVE'S SAKE, KISS ME ONCE AGAIN! by BEN JONSON QUATRAIN: AMONG THE PINES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH COWBOY'S COMPLAINT by SQUIRE OMAR BARKER LILIES: 15 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) STANZAS by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 12 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TO ELLEN; IMITATED FROM CATULLUS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 14. TROCHAIC VERSE: THE TENTH EPIGRAM by THOMAS CAMPION |