WRITTEN AT SEA <br /> <br />IF sometimes in the dark blue eye, <br />Or in the deep red wine, <br />Or soothed by gentlest melody, <br />Still warms this heart of mine, <br />Yet something colder in the blood, <br />And calmer in the brain, <br />Have whispered that my youth's bright flood <br />Ebbs, not to flow again. <br /> <br />If by Helvetia's azure lake, <br />Or Arno's yellow stream, <br />Each star of memory could awake, <br />As in my first young dream, <br />I know that when mine eye shall greet <br />The hillsides bleak and bare, <br />That gird my home, it will not meet <br />My childhood's sunsets there. <br /> <br /> <br />Oh, when love's first, sweet, stolen kiss <br />Burned on my boyish brow, <br />Was that young forehead worn as this? <br />Was that flushed cheek as now? <br />Were that wild pulse and throbbing heart <br />Like these, which vainly strive, <br />In thankless strains of soulless art, <br />To dream themselves alive? <br /> <br />Alas! the morning dew is gone, <br />Gone ere the full of day; <br />Life's iron fetter still is on, <br />Its wreaths all torn away; <br />Happy if still some casual hour <br />Can warm the fading shrine, <br />Too soon to chill beyond the power <br />Of love, or song, or wine!<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-evening-thought/
