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 | Collected poems |  |
VIII. VIII
The Old Story
VIII. (Marcus Argentarius)
Like many a one, when you had gold
Love met you smiling, we are told;
But now that all your gold is gone,
Love leaves you hungry and alone.
Love met you smiling, we are told;
But now that all your gold is gone,
Love leaves you hungry and alone.
And women, who have called you more
Sweet names than ever were before,
Will ask another now to tell
What man you are and where you dwell.
Sweet names than ever were before,
Will ask another now to tell
What man you are and where you dwell.
Was ever anyone but you
So long in learning what is true?
Must you find only at the end
That who has nothing has no friend?
So long in learning what is true?
Must you find only at the end
That who has nothing has no friend?
| Collected poems | |