THE SAME CONTINUED <br />Your youth flowed on, a river chaste and fair, <br />Till thirty years were written to your name. <br />A wife, a mother, these the titles were <br />Which conquered for you the world's fairest fame. <br />In all things you were wise but in this one, <br />That of your wisdom you yourself did doubt. <br />Youth spent like age, no joy beneath the sun. <br />Your glass of beauty vainly running out. <br />Then suddenly again, ere well you knew, <br />Love looked upon you tenderly, yet sad: <br />``Are these wise follies, then, enough for you?'' <br />He said;--``Love's wisdom were itself less mad.'' <br />And you: ``What wouldst thou of me?'' ``My bare due, <br />In token of what joys may yet be had.''<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-sonnets-of-proteus-part-iii-gods-and-false-gods-lxvii/
