I count the wrinkles in the road, As men are wont to trace The ravages of Time and Thought Upon a human face. Such are the vestiges of feet That day by day appear, And such of sightless memories Whose track alone is here. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VICTOR RAFOLSKI ON ART by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A HYMN [TO THE NAME AND] IN HONOR OF SAINT TERESA by RICHARD CRASHAW THE OLD BRIDGE AT FLORENCE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THYESTES, ACT 2: CHORUS by LUCIUS ANNAEUS SENECA AT A VACATION EXERCISE IN THE COLLEGE by JOHN MILTON |