I BADE, because the wick and oil are spent And frozen are the channels of the blood, My discontented heart to draw content From beauty that is cast out of a mould In bronze, or that in dazzling marble appears, Appears, but when we have gone is gone again, Being more indifferent to our solitude Than 'twere an apparition. O heart, we are old; The living beauty is for younger men: We cannot pay its tribute of wild tears. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MORAL FABLES: THE SHEEP AND THE DOG by AESOP MIANTOWONA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH POEM FOR PICTURE: TO A PORTRAIT BY EDWARD STEICHEN (RACHMANINOFF) by FRANK ANKENBRAND JR. HOUSECLEANING DAY IN VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY THE BEECH TREE'S PETITION by THOMAS CAMPBELL FOUR SONGS BY WAY OF CHORUS TO A PLAY: 2. FEMININE HONOURS by THOMAS CAREW WRITTEN A FEW HOURS BEFORE THE BIRTH OF A CHILD by JANE CAVE |