My flowery and green age was passing away, and I feeling a chill in the fires had been wasting my heart, for I was drawing near the hillside above the grave. Then my sweet enemy was making a start, little by little, to give over her great wariness, the way she was wringing a sweet thing out of my sharp sorrow. The time was coming when Love and Decency can keep company, and Lovers may sit together and say out all things in their hearts. But Death had his grudge against me, and he got up in the way, like an armed robber, with a pike in his hand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 19. THE FAIRY QUEEN PROSERPINA by THOMAS CAMPION THE ANGELUS; HEARD AT THE MISSION DOLORES IN SAN FRANCISCO, 1868 by FRANCIS BRET HARTE SONNET: 148 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE NATIONAL ODE; INDEPENDENCE SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA by BAYARD TAYLOR ROMEO AND JULIET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LYNCHED by FRANK ANKENBRAND JR. A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 22 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: IBN KOLTHUM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |