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letra de when we are old... - alva henderson

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when we are old and these rejoicing veins
are frosty channels to a muted stream
and out of all our burning their remains
no feeblest spark to fire us, even in dream
this be our solace: that it was not said
when we were young and warm and in our prime
upon our couch we lay as lie the dead
sleeping away the unreturning time
o sweet, o heavy-lidded, o my love
when morning strikes her spear upon the land
and we must rise and arm us and reprove
the insolent daylight with a steady hand
be not discountenanced if the knowing know
we rose from rapture but an hour ago

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