Touched with the delicate green of early May,
Or later, when the rose uplifts her face,
The world hangs glittering in starry space,
Fresh as a jewel found but yesterday.
And yet 'tis very old; what tongue may say
How old it is? Race follows upon race,
Forgetting and forgotten; in their place
Sink tower and temple; nothing long may stay.
We build on tombs, and live our day, and die;
From out our dust new towers and temples start;
Our very name becomes a mystery.
What cities no man ever heard of lie
Under the glacier, in the mountain's heart,
In violet glooms beneath the moaning sea!
Even This Will Pass Away
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Poem topics: green, heart, rose, sea, space, world, fresh, tongue, long, tower, place, stay, face, mystery, start, mountain, early, violet, jewel, dust, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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