On the day when youth is no more upon me I will write of the leaves and the moon in a tree top! I will sing then the song, long in the making -- When the stress of youth is put away from me. How can I ever be written out as men say? Surely it is merely an interference with the long song -- This that I am now doing. But when the spring of it is worn like the old moon And the eaten leaves are lace upon the cold earth -- Then I will rise up in my great desire -- Long at the birth -- and sing me the youth-song! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 12 by EZRA POUND A HUNDRED COLLARS by ROBERT FROST 1914: 5. THE SOLDIER by RUPERT BROOKE THE NIGHT COURT by RUTH COMFORT MITCHELL THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES: NEWS OF WAR by AESCHYLUS COMMENDATORY VERSES TO WILLIAM BROWNE'S 'BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS' by WILLIAM BASSE ECCE IN DESERTO by HENRY AUGUSTIN BEERS A MORNING PIECE; WRITTEN IN ABSENCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |