Once when my life was young, I, too, with Spring's bright face By mine, walked softly along, Pace to his pace. Then burned his crimson may, Like a clear flame outspread, Arching our happy way: Then would he shed Strangely from his wild face Wonderful light on me -- Like hounds that keen in chase Their quarry see. Oh, sorrow now to know What shafts, what keenness cold His are to pierce me through, Now that I'm old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TOMMY'S DEAD by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL SONNET: ADDRESSED TO HAYDON (1) by JOHN KEATS THE CHURCH OF BROU by MATTHEW ARNOLD ADDRESS TO SUBSCRIBERS .. FUND FOR CLOTHING CHILDREN CHARITY SCHOOL by BERNARD BARTON VENETIAN BLIND by HELEN DARBY BERNING SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 42 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING UPON PHILLIS WALKING IN A MORNING BEFORE SUN-RISING by JOHN CLEVELAND |