Author J. A. Pott You seem a youth to look upon. You dyed your hair ā and lo, The locks once whiter than a swan Are blacker than a crow. Not everyone can you deceive And, though you hide the grey, Yet Proserpine will not believe But snatch the mask away. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments