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The Voice Of Age Post by :sobande Category :Poems Author :Edwin Arlington Robinson Date :March 2011 Read :2344

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The Voice Of Age

She'd look upon us, if she could,
As hard as Rhadamanthus would;
Yet one may see,--who sees her face,
Her crown of silver and of lace,
Her mystical serene address
Of age alloyed with loveliness,--
That she would not annihilate
The frailest of things animate.

She has opinions of our ways,
And if we're not all mad, she says,--
If our ways are not wholly worse
Than others, for not being hers,--
There might somehow be found a few
Less insane things for us to do,
And we might have a little heed
Of what Belshazzar couldn't read.

She feels, with all our furniture,
Room yet for something more secure
Than our self-kindled aureoles
To guide our poor forgotten souls;
But when we have explained that grace
Dwells now in doing for the race,
She nods--as if she were relieved;
Almost as if she were deceived.

She frowns at much of what she hears,
And shakes her head, and has her fears;
Though none may know, by any chance,
What rose-leaf ashes of romance
Are faintly stirred by later days
That would be well enough, she says,
If only people were more wise,
And grown-up children used their eyes.

(The end)
Edwin Arlington Robinson's poem: Voice Of Age

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The Dark House The Dark House

The Dark House
Where a faint light shines alone, Dwells a Demon I have known. Most of you had better say "The Dark House", and go your way. Do not wonder if I stay. For I know the Demon's eyes, And their lure that never dies. Banish all your fond alarms, For I know the foiling charms Of her eyes and of her arms,

Another Dark Lady Another Dark Lady

Another Dark Lady
Think not, because I wonder where you fled, That I would lift a pin to see you there; You may, for me, be prowling anywhere, So long as you show not your little head: No dark and evil story of the dead Would leave you less pernicious or less fair-- Not even Lilith, with her famous hair; And Lilith was the devil, I have read. I cannot hate you,