FAINT lines of gray are in that hair That was one year ago so fair, So curl'd in gold, so wav'd with light, And still the feathery hours flit by, And we grow older, you and I, And still I wait for your reply, And all your answer still is flight. You touch my hand a little while, You pierce me with your flashing smile, You dart away, away, away! O for the skill to hold you fast, O for the art to win at last One sunset-hour ere life be past, One thrill before the nerves decay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLISSFUL DAY by ROBERT BURNS A STORM IN THE DISTANCE (AMONG THE GEORGIAN HILLS) by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE by JOHN KEATS THE LOW-DOWN WHITE by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE IMAGINATION, FR. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |