TAKE as you will, slake, solace, and possess
While Youth, with laughter, scatters tears that fall
Sudden and shaken sometimes at your call;
Pledge me in passion and in gentleness,—
In praise and prayer, I would not give you less,
Be less unconquerably true in all,
Take my young kisses,—my young spirit's thrall,
Forbid not Now's imperishable "Yes"!
When I am old, and cold, and wise, and grown
As far beyond as you outstrip me now,—
Nor plead, nor pant, nor challenge nor protest;
Oh, come not then, all these years less your own;
Too old to love, too wise to heed your vow,
Too cold to feel your cold hand upon my breast.
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Comments
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This seems rather angsty to me...the too cold to feel your cold hand upon my breast, made me think of death and wanting...numbness. ah good poem
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