Once when my life was young, I, too, with Spring's bright face By mine, walked softly along, Pace to his pace. Then burned his crimson may, Like a clear flame outspread, Arching our happy way: Then would he shed Strangely from his wild face Wonderful light on me -- Like hounds that keen in chase Their quarry see. Oh, sorrow now to know What shafts, what keenness cold His are to pierce me through, Now that I'm old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RECOLLECTIONS OF LOVE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE NEW YEAR'S EVE by THOMAS HARDY THE OLD BRIDGE AT FLORENCE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO A PORTRAIT by ARTHUR WILLIAM SYMONS ODE: INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |