All years are coined from the same gold, The metal seems more precious when it's turned New from the die and sharp and bright . . . . @3And Helens are the same as when Troy burned@1. The minted @3Now@1 but seems more fair Than the old coinage with its well worn face . . . @3And men are as they were the hour They watched Susanna in her garden-space@1. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLEAR AND COLDER; BOSTON COMMON by ROBERT FROST MATERNITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPRINGTIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON WAITING IN THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL by CLARENCE MAJOR WORDS INTO WORDS WON'T GO by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ELIZABETH CHILDERS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |