'UNCUT. The Rare First Issue.' Let Who will deride our tremulous Fond joy when on our sheet we set The latest of our honours thus. We do not argue. But we know Not vain the charms nor fugitive That freshly from the numbers flow When on their primal page they live. Here is the gentle chronicle Of all such virtues in your mind; Yet here, for all we know it well, One little book they shall not find. It is of old affection writ, Of courtesy that counted not The severing years; the theme of it Has never known design or plot. 'Mint copy. Perfect.' And when age -- (So the Great Printer shall I thank) -- From 'Finis' turns the final page, We shall not find the verso blank. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THIS DAY I COMPLETE MY THIRTY-SIXTH YEAR by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE FACE ON THE [BAR-ROOM] FLOOR by HUGH ANTOINE D'ARCY NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY by ROBERT FROST ECHOES: 9 by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 15 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN ENVOY, TO 'MORE SONGS FROM VAGABONDIA' by RICHARD HOVEY A CELEBRATION OF CHARIS: 5. HIS DISCOURSE WITH CUPID by BEN JONSON |