Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/351

 EDMUND WALLER

Tell her that 's young, And shuns to have her graces spied,

That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommcndcd died.

Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired:

Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.

Then die that she The common fate of all things rare

May read in thce, How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair'

��314 Old Age

THE seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; So calm are we when passions are no more. For then we know how vain it was to boast Of fleeting things, so certain to be Jost. Clouds of affection from our younger eyes Conceal that emptiness which age descries.

The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,

Lets in new light through chinks that Time hath made:

Stronger by weakness, wiser men become

As they draw near to their eternal home.

Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view

That stand upon the threshold of the new.

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