Poem by Ina Donna Coolbrith

A Birthday Rhyme

So glide the days, dear! Dawn will not delay,
Noontide will come, nor linger in its flight;
And even-time in turn must pass away
Into the darkness of a dreamless night.
Hold fast, Beloved, thy season of delight:
Make merry while the morning gilds the sky,
And dews undried upon the roses lie;
Thy golden morn of May-time, brief as bright.
For labor waits; and cares thou canst not miss;
Grief for thy gladness, and for laughter, tears.
Ah, love! if only love might spare thee this-
Might hold a little farther off the years! -
A little longer bind thy winged feet,
O youth, -most swift in passing, and most sweet!

1. The Captive of the White City
2. Two
3. Bret Harte (A stir of pines in the forest)
4. Meadowlarks
5. Memorial Poem

Print

1122 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version