AND thus it is with all that made life fair, Gone with the freshness that it used to wear. 'Tis sad to mark the ravage that the heart Makes of itself; how one by one depart The colours that made hope. We seek, we find; And find, too, charm has, with the change, declined. Many things have I loved, that now to me Are as a marvel how they loved could be; Yet, on we go, desiring to the last Illusions vain, as any in the past. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE PROPOSAL TO ERECT A MONUMENT IN ENGLAND TO LORD BYRON by EMMA LAZARUS DAUGHTERS OF JEPHTHA by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE BIRTHNIGHT: TO F by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE TWO VOYAGERS by EMILY DICKINSON TO THE PIOUS MEMORY OF THE YOUNG LADY MRS. ANNE KILLIGREW by JOHN DRYDEN |