Mister W. H. Replies

I am today 69 years of age,

And as I look upon

My youthful portraits hung

I know indeed that "Winter's rugged hand Has defaced in me my Summer."

No, Immortal William:

'Twas not for fear that my demise might

"Wet a widow's eye."

Ney, ney; Sweet Fraud ...

'Twas for a god

Who could not weep a single crystal drop.

My flood of tears

Proved compensation fair.

Love for Love's own sake alone

Has warranted its own reward;

For still the wintered heart,

Though clutched in icy hand, Can yet remember

One's sweet days in Spring.

(Ref.: Sonnets 6 and 9)

W. S.

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