It will not hurt me when I am old, A running tide where moonlight burned Will not sting me like silver snakes; The years will make me sad and cold, It is the happy heart that breaks. The heart asks more than life can give, When that is learned, then all is learned; The waves break fold on jewelled fold, But beauty itself is fugitive, It will not hurt me when I am old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ETERNITY BLUES by HAYDEN CARRUTH POETS ARE BORN NOT MADE by ROBERT FROST AFTER THE PAPAGO by JAMES GALVIN AFTERGLOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON OMNIPRESENCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO HENRY LINCOLN JOHNSON - LAWYER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |