I said, "My youth is gone <br /> Like a fire beaten out by the rain, <br />That will never sway and sing <br /> Or play with the wind again." <br /> <br />I said, "It is no great sorrow <br /> That quenched my youth in me, <br />But only little sorrows <br /> Beating ceaselessly." <br /> <br />I thought my youth was gone, <br /> But you returned -- <br />Like a flame at the call of the wind <br /> It leaped and burned; <br /> <br />Threw off its ashen cloak, <br /> And gowned anew <br />Gave itself like a bride <br /> Once more to you.<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/embers-2/
