Wasted

Thou show'st thy beauty unto all the men
— That meet thee by the way,
And one day thou shalt render it again
— To death and to decay.

Thou giv'st thy wisdom to a chosen few,
— As 'twere some precious book,
Yet were there only two or three that knew
— The art therein to look.

Thou giv'st thy laughter only unto one.
— He hath no eyes to see.
Give, when his bitter jest with thee is done,
— Thy tears to me!
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.