Sometimes I think that you were born mature; That every experience must find In you its mirror and its mate, designed For fertile union: you are firm, secure Within your acre. The ephemeral lure Of adolescence never led you blind, Or stuffed its moon lit lyrics in your mind: And you have grown with growth that will endure. But I came from the wind's womb and I go, Much like my mother, unsubstantially. I furbish stars or brush the muddy pools Or hold light daliance with the apple tree. It is ordained that I shall never grow, But only be the happiest of fools. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT THE BULLET SANG by FRANCIS BRET HARTE MILTON'S PRAYER [OF PATIENCE, OR, IN BLINDNESS] by ELIZABETH LLOYD HOWELL SAGE COUNSEL by ARTHUR THOMAS QUILLER-COUCH THE LOTOS-EATERS by ALFRED TENNYSON SONGS OF LABOR: DEDICATION by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE GODS OF THE EARTH BENEATH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: TARAFA by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |