Here you will find thePoemThe Touch Of Timeof poet John Le Gay Brereton
Time, who with soft pale ashes veils the brand Of many a hope that flared against the sky To plant its heaven-storming banners high, Has touched you with no desecrating hand; Your beauty wins a ripeness sweet and bland As opulent summer, and your glancing eye Glows with a deeper lustre, and your sigh Of love is still my clamouring heart's command. Yet what if all your fairness were defaced, Wilted by passionate whirlwinds, battle-scarred, Your skin of delicate satin hard and dry? Still you would be the laughing girl who graced A gloomy manhood, by forebodings marred, In the deep wood where still we love to lie.
