XI
Belovèd, those who moan of love's brief day
Shall find but little grace with me, I guess,
Who know too well this passion's tenderness
To deem that it shall lightly pass away,
A moment's interlude in life's dull play;
Though many loves have lingered to distress,
So shall not ours, sweet Lady, ne'ertheless,
But deepen with us till both heads be grey.
For perfect love is like a fair green plant,
That fades not with its blossoms, but lives on,
And gentle lovers shall not come to want,
Though fancy with its first mad dream be gone;
Sweet is the flower, whose radiant glory flies,
But sweeter still the green that never dies.
The Growth Of Love Xi
Archibald Lampman
(1)
Poem topics: away, dream, flower, life, never, passion, perfect, gentle, moment, play, lady, guess, Valentine's Day, distress, green, sweet, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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