THE years that since we met have flown Leave as they found me, still alone: No wife, nor child, nor grandchild dear, Are mine the heart of age to cheer. More favored thou, with hair less gray Than mine, canst let thy fancy stray To where thy little Constance sees The prairie ripple in the breeze; For one like her to lisp thy name Is better than the voice of fame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I COULD TAKE by HAYDEN CARRUTH A PECK OF GOLD by ROBERT FROST WHEN THE SPEED COMES by ROBERT FROST SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN MATERNITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPRINGTIME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |