Poems (Piatt)/Volume 2/Sad Wisdom
SAD WISDOM: Four Years Old.
"Well, but some time I will be dead; Then you will love me, too!"Ah! mouth so wise for mouth so red, I wonder how you knew.(Closer, closer, little brown head— Not long can I keep you!)
Here, take this one poor bud to hold, Take this long kiss and last;Love cannot loosen one fixed fold Of the shroud that holds you fast—Never, never; oh, cold, so cold! All that was sweet is past.
Oh, tears, and tears, and foolish tears, Dropped on a grave somewhere! . . .Does not the child laugh in my ears What time I feign despair? Whisper, whisper—I know he hears; Yet this is hard to bear.
O world, with your wet face above One veil of dust, thick-drawn!O weird voice of the hapless dove, Broken for something gone!—Tell me, tell me, when will we love The thing the sun shines on?