Collected poems | ||
537
TO RICHARD WATSON GILDER
Old friends are best! And so to you
Again I send, in closer throng,
No unfamiliar shapes of song,
But those that once you liked and knew.
Again I send, in closer throng,
No unfamiliar shapes of song,
But those that once you liked and knew.
You surely will not do them wrong;
For are you not an old friend, too?—
Old friends are best.
For are you not an old friend, too?—
Old friends are best.
Old books, old wine, old Nankin blue;—
All things, in short, to which belong
The charm, the grace that Time makes strong,—
All these I prize, but (entre nous)
Old friends are best!
All things, in short, to which belong
The charm, the grace that Time makes strong,—
All these I prize, but (entre nous)
Old friends are best!
Collected poems | ||