Am I despis'd, because you say, And I dare sweare, that I am gray? Know, Lady, you have but your day: And time will come when you shall weare Such frost and snow upon your haire: And when (though long it comes to passe) You question with your Looking-glasse; And in that sincere Christall seek, But find no Rose-bud in your cheek: Nor any bed to give the shew Where such a rare Carnation grew. Ah! then too late, close in your chamber keeping, It will be told That you are old; By those true teares y'are weeping. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF CHARLES VINE DE PUY by LEVI BISHOP ECHOES OF SPRING: 1 by MATHILDE BLIND PILLBOX by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 4 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH LAMENT FOR PIONEERS by VERNE BRIGHT |