Hope, like the hyaena, coming to be old, Alters his shape; is turned into Despair. Pity my hoary hopes! Maid of Clear Mould! Think not that frowns can ever make thee fair. What harm is it to kiss, to laugh, to play? Beauty's no blossom, if it be not used. Sweet dalliance keeps the wrinkles long away: Repentance follows them that have refused. To bring you to the knowledge of your good I seek, I sue. O try, and then believe! Each image can be chaste that's carved of wood. You show you live when men you do relieve. Iron with wearing shines. Rust wasteth treasure. On earth, but love there is no other pleasure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEA SLUMBER-SONG by RODEN BERKELEY WRIOTHESLEY NOEL STILL FALLS THE RAIN; THE RAIDS, 1940. NIGHT AND DAWN by EDITH SITWELL THIS COMPOST: 2. by WALT WHITMAN TO MICHAL: SONNETS AFTER MARRIAGE: 8. AFTER RONSARD by CHARLES WILLIAMS FRONT LINE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET SONNET: ONE NEW YEAR'S EVE by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: A DREAM OF GOOD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TO MARY RUSSELL MITFORD, IN HER GARDEN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |