Let me grow lovely, growing old--
So many fine things do:
Laces, and ivory, and gold,
And silks need not be new;
And there is healing in old trees,
Old streets a glamour hold;
Why may not I, as well as these,
Grow lovely, growing old?

(C) Karle Wilson Baker
03/10/2017


Best Poems of Karle Wilson Baker

• I Shall Be Loved As Quiet Things
• The Tree
• Days
• Texas Cowboy
• Unser Gott
• A Clear Night
• Let Me Grow Lovely
• Nacogdoches Speaks
• The Cardinal And His Lady
• Apple And Rose
• Blue Smoke
• Good Company
• Within The Alamo