Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson

Growth

I watched the glory of her childhood change,
Half-sorrowful to find the child I knew,
(Loved long ago in lily-time),
Become a maid, mysterious and strange,
With fair, pure eyes - dear eyes, but not the eyes I knew
Of old, in the olden time!

Till on my doubting soul the ancient good
Of her dear childhood in the new disguise
Dawned, and I hastened to adore
The glory of her waking maidenhead,
And found the old tenderness within her deepening eyes,
But kinder than before. 

1. To a Lady Asking Foolish Questions
2. On the Birth of a Friend's Child
3. Quid Non Supremus, Amantes?
4. Villanelle of Sunset
5. Vain Resolves

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