O that you were yourself! but, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live,
Against this coming end you should prepare
And your sweet semblance to some other give.
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination; then you were
Yourself again after yourself’s decease
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gust of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?
…O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know
…You had a father – let your son say so.
Posts Tagged ‘decay’
The Matching Pair by Dennis Lange
Posted in My Poems, tagged bard on the hill, cemetery, crosses, death, decay, Dennis Lange, gravestones, markers, mourners, one horse shay, perpetual, poems, poetry, rot, temporary, The Matching Pair, wooden on March 23, 2016| Leave a Comment »
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This time sticks, and most times stones
Raised above one’s flesh and bones.
Markers for those who are left,
O’er the one of whom bereft.
Stakes of wood will rot, decay.
Stones last longer (one horse shay).
Mourners, though, are like the wood
Cannot stay like stones will, should.
Markers, then, of wood are fine.
Mourners’ time with them align.
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photo by Michal Zacharzewski at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nq1PRjw/Graveyard
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.
The Bard on the Hill 