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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529190" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Thalia</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">"A MIDDLE-AGED LYRICAL POET IS SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING FINAL LEAVE OF THE MUSE OF COMEDY. SHE HAS BROUGHT HIM HIS HAT AND GLOVES, AND IS ABSTRACTEDLY PICKING A THREAD OF GOLD HAIR FROM HIS COAT SLEEVE AS HE BEGINS TO SPEAK:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I say it under the rose-- <br>oh, thanks! --yes, under the laurel, <br>We part lovers, not foes; <br>we are not going to quarrel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We have too long been friends <br>on foot and in guilded coaches, <br>Now that the whole thing ends, <br>to spoil our kiss with reproaches.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I leave you; my soul is wrung; <br>I pause, look back from the portal-- <br>Ah, I no more am young, <br>and you, child, are immortal!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mine is the glacier's way, <br>yours is the blossom's weather-- <br>When were December and May <br>known to be happy together?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Before my kisses grow tame, <br>before my moodiness grieve you, <br>While yet my heart is flame, <br>and I all lover, I leave you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, in the coming time, <br>when you count the rich years over, <br>Think of me in my prime, <br>and not as a white-haired lover.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fretful, pierced with regret, <br>the wraith of dead Desire <br>Thrumming a cracked spinnet <br>by a slowly dying fire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When, at last, I am cold-- <br>years hence, if the gods so will it-- <br>Say, "He was true as gold," <br>and wear a rose in your fillet!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Others, tender as I, <br>will come and sue for carresses, <br>Woo you, win you, and die-- <br>mind you, a rose in your tresses!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some Melpomene woo, <br>some hold Clio nearest; <br>You, sweet Comedy--you <br>were ever sweetest and dearest!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, it is time to go-- <br>when writing your tragic sister <br>Say to that child of woe <br>how sorry I was I missed her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Really, I cannot stay, <br>though "parting is such sweet sorrow" . . . <br>Perhaps I will, on my way <br>down-town, look in to-morrow!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Bailey+Aldrich">Thomas Bailey Aldrich</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529190" data-title="Thalia de Thomas Bailey Aldrich" data-description=""A MIDDLE-AGED LYRICAL POET IS SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING FINAL LEAVE OF THE MUSE OF COMEDY. SHE HAS BROUGHT HIM HIS HAT AND GLOVES, AND IS ABSTRACTEDLY PICKING A THREAD OF GOLD HAIR FROM HIS COAT SLEEVE AS HE BEGINS TO SPEAK: I say it under the ..."></div> </div> </div>
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