Hope, like the hyaena, coming to be old, Alters his shape; is turned into Despair. Pity my hoary hopes! Maid of Clear Mould! Think not that frowns can ever make thee fair. What harm is it to kiss, to laugh, to play? Beauty's no blossom, if it be not used. Sweet dalliance keeps the wrinkles long away: Repentance follows them that have refused. To bring you to the knowledge of your good I seek, I sue. O try, and then believe! Each image can be chaste that's carved of wood. You show you live when men you do relieve. Iron with wearing shines. Rust wasteth treasure. On earth, but love there is no other pleasure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WAY TO ARCADY by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER ON THE DEATH OF MR. PURCELL by JOHN DRYDEN THE PLANTATION CHILD'S LULLABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR LET US HAVE PEACE by NANCY BYRD TURNER A PETITION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE BATTLE-SONG OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS by MICHAEL ALTENBURG THE POET'S WIFE by JESSICA BELL |