Spring
Once when my life was young, I, too, with Spring's bright face By mine, walked softly along, Pace to his pace. Then burned his crimson may, Like a clear flame outspread, Arching our happy way: Then would he shed Strangely from his wild face Wonderful light on me - Like hounds that keen in chase Their quarry see. Oh, sorrow now to know What shafts, what keenness cold His are to pierce me through, Now that I'm old.
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"Once when my life was young,..."
"Spring" is a quintessential example of Walter De La Mare's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...