"Whom the gods love die young." The thought is old; And yet it soothed the sweet Athenian mind. I take it with all pleasure, overbold, Perhaps, yet to its virtue much inclined By an inherent love for what is fair. This is the utter poetry of woe -- That the bright-flashing gods should cure despair By love, and make youth precious here below. I die, being young; and, dying, could become A pagan, with the tender Grecian trust. Let death, the fell anatomy, benumb The hand that writes, and fill my mouth with dust, -- Chant no funeral theme, but, with a choral Hymn, O ye mourners! hail immortal youth auroral! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COMING OF WISDOM WITH TIME by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A CELEBRATION OF CHARIS: 1. HIS EXCUSE FOR LOVING by BEN JONSON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 53. ALLAH-AL-WAKIL by EDWIN ARNOLD THE KNITTING by MARGARET BARBER CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 6. OF PATIENCE by WILLIAM BASSE PSALM 23 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |