She, who but late in beauty's flower was seen, Proud of her auburn curls and noble mien -- Who froze my hopes and triumphed in my fears, Now sheds her graces in the waste of years. Changed to unlovely is that breast of snow, And dimmed her eye, and wrinkled is her brow; And querulous the voice by time repressed, Whose artless music stole me from my rest. Age gives redress to love; and silvery hair And earlier wrinkles brand the haughty fair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DISCRETE LOVE POEM by JAMES GALVIN JULY IN GEORGY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TWENTY-FOUR HOKKU ON A MODERN THEME by AMY LOWELL ATELIER CEZANNE by CLARENCE MAJOR BALLROOM DARK by CLARENCE MAJOR |