Now I am young and credulous, My heart is quick to bleed At courage in the tremulous, Slow sprouting of a seed. Now I am young and sensitive, Man's lack can stab me through; I own no stitch I would not give To him that asked me to. Now I am young and a fool for love, My blood goes mad to see A brown girl pass me like a dove That flies melodiously. Let me be lavish of my tears, And dream that false is true; Though wisdom cometh with the years, The barren days come, too. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GARDEN AGAIN by KAREN SWENSON THE RAND MCNALLY ATLAS by KAREN SWENSON MUSIC AND MEMORY by JOHN ALBEE ON THE ORIGIN OF EVIL by JOHN BYROM ON THE DEATH OF MR. CRASHAW by ABRAHAM COWLEY SPECIMEN OF AN INDUCTION TO A POEM by JOHN KEATS THE PROCLAMATION by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 2. THE FLOWER ASLEEP by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |