LAUREL-CROWNED Horatius, True, how true thy saying! Swift as wind flies over us Time, devouring, slaying. Where are, oh! those goblets full Of wine honey-laden, Strifes and loves and bountiful Lips of ruddy maiden? Grows the young grape tenderly, And the maid is growing; But the thirsty poet, see, Years on him are snowing! What's the use on hoary curls Of the bays undying, If we may not kiss the girls, Drink while time's a-flying? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PILGRIM [SONG], FR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by JOHN BUNYAN BOLDNESS IN LOVE by THOMAS CAREW LUKE HAVERGAL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON ARE THE CHILDREN AT HOME? by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER FOR THOSE AT SEA; HYMN by WILLIAM WHITING THE LUMINOUS HANDS OF GOD by ELEANOR WARFIELD KENLY BACON |