A shallow voice said, bitterly, "New friend!" As if the old alone were true, and, born Of sudden freak, the new deserved but scorn And deep distrust. If love could condescend, What scorn in turn! Do men old garments mend With new? And put the new wine, red at morn, Into the last year's bottles, thin and worn? But love and loving need not to defend Themselves. The new is older than the old; And newest friend is oldest friend in this, That, waiting him, we longest grieved to miss One thing we sought. I think when we behold Full Heaven, we say not, "Why was this not told?" But, "Ah! For years we've waited for this bliss!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUR CHRIST by HARRY WEBB FARRINGTON VIRTUE [OR, VERTUE] by GEORGE HERBERT THE AUTHOR'S EPITAPH, MADE BY HIMSELF by WALTER RALEIGH THE IMMORTALS by ISAAC ROSENBERG TO RICH GIVERS by WALT WHITMAN PENITENTIAL PSALM by THOMAS WYATT |