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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=534058" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Man’s Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">[HERNANI, Act III.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>O mockery! that this halting love<br>That fills the heart so full of flame and transport,<br>Forgets the body while it fires the soul!<br>If but a youthful shepherd cross my path,<br>He singing on the way--I sadly musing,<br>He in his fields, I in my darksome alleys--<br>Then my heart murmurs: 'O, ye mouldering towers!<br>Thou olden ducal dungeon! O how gladly<br>Would I exchange ye, and my fields and forests,<br>Mine ancient name, mine ancient rank, my ruins--<br>My ancestors, with whom I soon shall lie,<br>For _his_ thatched cottage and his youthful brow!'<br>His hair is black--his eyes shine forth like _thine_.<br>Him thou might'st look upon, and say, fair youth,<br>Then turn to me, and think that I am old.<br>And yet the light and giddy souls of cavaliers<br>Harbor no love so fervent as their words bespeak.<br>Let some poor maiden love them and believe them,<br>Then die for them--they smile. Aye! these young birds,<br>With gay and glittering wing and amorous song,<br>Can shed their love as lightly as their plumage.<br>The old, whose voice and colors age has dimmed,<br>Flatter no more, and, though less fair, are faithful.<br>When _we_ love, we love true. Are our steps frail?<br>Our eyes dried up and withered? Are our brows<br>Wrinkled? There are no wrinkles in the heart.<br>Ah! when the graybeard loves, he should be spared;<br>The heart is young--_that_ bleeds unto the last.<br>I love thee as a spouse,--and in a thousand<br>Other fashions,--as sire,--as we love<br>The morn, the flowers, the overhanging heavens.<br>Ah me! when day by day I gaze upon thee,<br>Thy graceful step, thy purely-polished brow,<br>Thine eyes' calm fire,--I feel my heart leap up,<br>And an eternal sunshine bathe my soul.<br>And think, too! Even the world admires,<br>When age, expiring, for a moment totters<br>Upon the marble margin of a tomb,<br>To see a wife--a pure and dove-like angel--<br>Watch over him, soothe him, and endure awhile<br>The useless old man, only fit to die;<br>A sacred task, and worthy of all honor,<br>This latest effort of a faithful heart;<br>Which, in his parting hour, consoles the dying,<br>And, without loving, wears the look of love.<br>Ah! thou wilt be to me this sheltering angel,<br>To cheer the old man's heart--to share with him<br>The burden of his evil years;--a daughter<br>In thy respect, a sister in thy pity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">DONNA SOL. My fate may be more to precede than follow.<br>My lord, it is no reason for long life<br>That we are young! Alas! I have seen too oft<br>The old clamped firm to life, the young torn thence;<br>And the lids close as sudden o'er their eyes<br>As gravestones sealing up the sepulchre.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Victor+Hugo">Victor Hugo</a><div class=q>
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<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=534058" data-title="The Old Man’s Love de Victor Hugo" data-description="[HERNANI, Act III.]


O mockery! that this halting love
That fills the heart so full of flame and transport,
Forgets the body while it fires the soul!
If but a youthful shepherd cross my path,
He singing on the way--I sadly musing,
He in his field..."></div>
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