Race

EAVE me here those looks of yours!All those pretty airs and lures:Flush of cheek and flash of eye;Your lips' smile and their deep dye;Gleam of the white teeth within;Dimple of the cloven chin;All the sunshine that you wearIn the summer of your hair;All the morning of your face;All your figure's wilding grace;The flower-pose of your head, the lightFlutter of your footsteps' flight:I own all, and that glad heartI must claim ere you depart.

Go, yet go not unconsoled!Sometime, after you are old,You shall come, and I will takeFrom your brow the sullen ache,From your eyes the twilight gazeDarkening upon winter days,From your feet their palsy pace,And the wrinkles from your face,From your locks the snow; the droopOf your head, your worn frame's stoop,And that withered smile withinThe kissing of the nose and chin:I own all, and that sad heartI will claim ere you depart.

I am Race, and both are mine,Mortal Age and Youth divine:Mine to grant, but not in fee;Both again revert to meFrom each that lives, that I may giveUnto each that yet shall live.