Now I have reached the midmost of my years, Atop my house I hold myself astride; I see the same landscape on either side, But not the same season appears. Here the red earth is antlered with vine Like a young deer. Laughter, wash on line, Interchanged signals—and the day is through. There, winter and the fame that is my due. Venus, I'd like you still to say to me You love me. For if I had I held aloof, Nor built my house of my own poetry, I'd feel the void and tumble from the roof. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ANNIVERSARY [ANNIVERSARIE] by JOHN DONNE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LUCINDA MATLOCK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS EVEN SO by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI VAN ELSEN by FREDERICK GEORGE SCOTT ON HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN by THOMAS WYATT THE FLIGHT OF THE WAR-EAGLE by OBADIAH CYRUS AURINGER A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 13 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |