Come, let me kiss your wistful face <br />Where Sorrow curves her bow of pain, <br />And live sweet days and bitter days <br />With you, or wanting you again. <br />I dread your perishable gold: <br />Come near me now; the years are few. <br />Alas, when you and I are old <br />I shall not want to look at you: <br /> <br />And yet come in. I shall not dare <br />To gaze upon your countenance, <br />But I shall huddle in my chair, <br />Turn to the fire my fireless glance, <br /> <br />And listen, while that slow and grave <br />Immutable sweet voice of yours <br />Rises and falls, as falls a wave <br />In summer on forgotten shores.<br /><br />James Elroy Flecker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gravis-dulcis-immutabilis/
