THOU art so fair, and young withal, Thou kindlest young desires in me, Restoring life to leaves that fall, And sight to eyes that hardly see, Half those fresh beauties bloom in thee. Those under several herbs and flowers Disguised, were all Medea gave, When she recalled Time's flying hours, And aged Æson from his grave; For beauty can both kill and save. Youth it enflames, but age it cheers, I would go back, but not return To twenty, but to twice those years; Not blaze, but ever constant burn, For fear my cradle prove my urn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALMANACH DU PRINTEMPS VIVAROIS by HAYDEN CARRUTH A DREAM OF JULIUS CAESAR by ROBERT FROST THE LEAVES OF THE TREE HIDE THE SUN by DAVID IGNATOW TRANSPOSITIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |