Coy Mistress by Annie Finch
Sir, I am not a bird of prey:A Lady does not seize the day.I trust that brief Time will unfoldOur youth, before he makes us old.How could we two write lines of rhymeWere we not fond of numbered TimeAnd grateful to the vast and sweetTrials his days will make us meet?The Grave’s not just the body’s curse;No skeleton can pen a verse!So while this numbered World we see,Let’s sweeten Time with poetry,And Time, in turn, may sweeten LoveAnd give us time our love to prove.You’ve praised my eyes, forehead, breast:You’ve all our lives to praise the rest.
- from 'Spells' by
ANNIE FINCH
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