Your lips have blessed my lips and touched my soul,
Your age has been a beauty without time;
In you I held a mirror for my goal,
And danced the shadows with your golden rhyme.
Ah! If that sweetness now was touching me,
Ah! If all that’s fine still shone out its fair light,
I’d wrap it warm and take it where I could see
The moonbeams shining from your flight.
I held a love that would not let me leave,
I shaped a passion that would never die,
I cried, and now at last it’s time to grieve
For time must – time will – time will ever fly.
So hush, my child, I love you still, ‘tis me:
Though age has called, in here – in here, you’re free.
If you’ve had a newborn child you’ll have seen something timeless and beautiful that seems to have flown down from heaven. We should all aspire to be like newborn children. This poem remembers the child, and the attachment and power of love and how that beautiful creature still lives in the memory.
