Alexander Pope

Celia

Celia, we know, is sixty—five,
Yet Celia’s face is seventeen;
Thus winter in her breast must live,
While summer in her face is seen.
 
How cruel Celia’s fate, who hence
Our heart’s devotion cannot try;
Too pretty for our reverence,
Too ancient for our gallantry!

Preferido o celebrado por...
Otras obras de Alexander Pope...



Arriba