A WOMAN is waiting for you, my lad— Ride past! Her cheeks are soft and her mouth is glad— Ride past! For the flash of her glance is the light of bane, And the touch of her lips is the key to pain, And she calls to the wise man—all in vain! But youth is strong and will find no wrong In the lilting lure of her ancient song. And the thing that's art, and the thing that's heart, Only the knowing can tell apart; And the price of the knowledge is black with stain, And the seed of the wisdom, bad. She would barter her love for your own, my lad— Ride past! But your love is good and her love is bad— Ride past! She offers the fruit of the bitter tree, Her kiss is the promise of misery, Of death and of woe; let her be! let her be! Youth is bold and of eager mold, And brass in the ken of youth is gold, And the acid of grief is the only test For the tawdry tinsel within her breast— Which only the eyes of the wise can see— And the eyes of the wise are sad! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH IN A CHURCH-YARD IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOHN CABANIS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO THE PEACOCK OF FRANCE by MARIANNE MOORE DOCTOR OF BILLIARDS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |