For Summer I would paint a married pair <br />Sitting in close embraces, while a band <br />Of children kneel before them hand in hand; <br />Healthful their cheeks, and from their mantling hair, <br />Well--knit and clear, their downward limbs are bare; <br />His hand is past over her neck, and prest <br />In pride of love upon her full ripe breast; <br />And yet his brow is delved with lines of care, <br />And in her shining eye one truant tear <br />Stands, ready to be shed:--a quiet scene, <br />But not without perchance intruding fear <br />That never comes again what once hath been; <br />And recollection that our fondest toil <br />But weaves a texture for the world to soil.<br /><br />Henry Alford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lxxiii-summer-when-the-prime-is-reached-but-there-are-tokens-of-decay/
