Where twilight broods o'er Acheron A youthful face waits mine, Care cannot make a whit more wan, Or sorrow less divine. By Styx, whose changeless asphodel Blooms heavy with dew, is one Who in his innocence keeps well Our tryst till Time be done. O eyes whose earthly light is hid, Heart of my childhood be Content to sleep, till Love have bid Age turn again to thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW THE CUMBERLAND WENT DOWN [MARCH 8, 1862] by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL DEEDS OF VALOR AT SANTIAGO by CLINTON SCOLLARD LITTLE GOLDENHAIR by F. BURGE SMITH ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 8. ON LEAVING HOLLAND by MARK AKENSIDE THALIA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH VERSES TO HER WHO IS JUSTLY ENTITLED TO THEM by BERNARD BARTON |