IN moments to delight devoted, 'My life!' with tenderest tone, you cry; Dear words! on which my heart had doted, If youth could neither fade nor die. To death even hours like these must roll, Ah! then repeat those accents never; Or change 'my life!' into 'my soul!' Which, like my love, exists for ever. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO THE BROWN PAPER BAG by JAMES GALVIN THE GIANTS OF HISTORY by JAMES GALVIN MY BOY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE AWAKENING by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON AT NIGHT; SONNET by AMY LOWELL |