"And with the dawn those angel faces smile That I have loved long since, and lost awhile." I SHALL not paint them. God them sees, and I: No other can, nor need. They have no form, I may not close with human kisses warm Their eyes which shine afar or from on high, But never will shine nearer till I die. How long, how long! See, I am growing old; I have quite ceased to note in my hair's fold The silver threads that there in ambush lie; Some angel faces bent from heaven would pine To trace the sharp lines graven upon mine; What matter? in the wrinkles ploughed by care Let age tread after, sowing immortal seeds; All this life's harvest yielded, wheat or weeds, Is reaped, methinks: at my little field lies bare. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD MAN DREAMS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES UPON THE DEATH OF SIR ALBERT MORTON'S WIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS LAMENT by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 18 by OMAR KHAYYAM A WOMAN'S QUESTION by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER |