The ghost of Ninon would be sorry now <br />To laugh at them, were she to see them here, <br />So brave and so alert for learning how <br />To fence with reason for another year. <br /> <br />Age offers a far comelier diadem <br />Than theirs; but anguish has no eye for grace, <br />When time’s malicious mercy cautions them <br />To think a while of number and of space. <br /> <br />The burning hope, the worn expectancy, <br />The martyred humor, and the maimed allure, <br />Cry out for time to end his levity, <br />And age to soften its investiture; <br /> <br />But they, though others fade and are still fair, <br />Defy their fairness and are unsubdued; <br />Although they suffer, they may not forswear <br />The patient ardor of the unpursued. <br /> <br />Poor flesh, to fight the calendar so long; <br />Poor vanity, so quaint and yet so brave; <br />Poor folly, so deceived and yet so strong, <br />So far from Ninon and so near the grave.<br /><br />Edwin Arlington Robinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/veteran-sirens/
