I shall live to be old, who feared I should die young, I shall live to be old. I shall cling to life as the leaves to the creaking oak In the rustle of falling snow and the cold. The other trees let loose their leaves on the air In their russet and red, I have lived long enough to wonder which is the best, And to envy sometimes the way of the early dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHELTERED GARDEN by HILDA DOOLITTLE ON SOME LINES OF LOPE DE VEGA by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) BLOOD ON THE WHEEL by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): HYLAS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS MY DEAREST WIFE by WILLIAM BARNES THE SHEPHERD'S CONTENT by RICHARD BARNFIELD IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: MITIGATIONS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |