IN five-score summers! All new eyes, New minds, new modes, new fools, new wise; New woes to weep, new joys to prize; With nothing left of me and you In that live century's vivid view Beyond a pinch of dust or two; A century which, if not sublime, Will show, I doubt not, at its prime, A scope above this blinkered time. - Yet what to me how far above? For I would only ask thereof That thy worm should be my worm, Love! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE VILLAGE by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONG OF TWO CROWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SAVING WAY by HAYDEN CARRUTH POETS ARE BORN NOT MADE by ROBERT FROST PERSPECTIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON JULY IN GEORGY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |