ĐẾN GẦN NGÀY SINH NHẬT ĐẦY Ý NGHĨA HẮN ĐỌC TUYỂN TẬP THƠ DO NORTON XUẤTBẢN- R.S. Gwynn

R. S. Gwynn
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APPROACHING A SIGNIFICANT BIRTHDAY, HE PERUSES
THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF POETRY
All human things are subject to decay. Beauty is momentary in the mind.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day. If winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
Forlorn! The very word is like a bell
And somewhat of a sad perplexity.
Here, take my picture, though I bid farewell. In a dark time the eye begins to see.
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall –
Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. What but design of darkness to appall?
An aged man is but a paltry thing.
If I should die, think only this of me: Crass casualty obstructs the sun and rain When I have fears that I may cease to be, To cease upon the midnight with no pain
90 American Poetry