GOOD-BYE, little maid, You're too old for my knee! You are dressed in a frock 'tis a torture to see; And the skirt has invaded The hose that concealed The limbs that went twinkling From forest to field. But a week, and I saw a quick flash of your knee As you jumped at the brook In a moment of daring, Unworried by caring For sudden concealment Of virgin revealment. And now, in a dress 'tis a torture to see, You will learn how to sink From the sky to the earth (Losing stars), and to think Custom better than worth, And slowly bewilder the angel Devoted to you from your birth. Already you hear the Society sheep As they jump one by one through the decorous holes, Thinking more of their wool than they think of their souls. In a year you will blush If I speak of your rush At the brook and the fence, And with tutored pretence Talk the tattle that grows at an afternoon tea. Yet only last week you were begging to be In a damson, for loot! And, afar in the green, Brightly golden, was seen The head that I loved so, the fairest of fruit! No more shall I follow, no more shall you flee, For now, in a dress 'tis a torture to see, You who were yesterday Wild as a finch They gird and be-pinch. Farewell to the days when your tresses were free— Good-bye, little maid, You're too old for my knee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS CAVALIER by ROBERT HERRICK ELIOT'S OAK; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SAINT PAUL: 1 by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS DEATH'S VALLEY by WALT WHITMAN A SUMMER NIGHT by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 3. OF CONTENTMENT by WILLIAM BASSE |