You were a child, and liked me, yesterday.
To-day you are a woman, and perhaps
Those softer eyes betoken the sweet lapse
Of liking into loving: who shall say?
Only I know that there can be for us
No liking more, nor any kisses now,
But they shall wake sweet shame upon your brow
Sweetly, or in a rose calamitous.
Trembling upon the verge of some new dawn
You stand, as if awakened out of sleep,
And it is I who cried to you, 'Arise!'
I who would fain call back the child that's gone,
And what you lost for me would have you keep,
Fearing to meet the woman of your eyes.
Arthur Symons's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (At Seventeen by Arthur Symons )
- Rising For Another Day, Michael McParland
- The head, gajanan mishra
- Tobacco use, hasmukh amathalal
- Mystery of love, Chiazo Egbukwu
- Complete homes, hasmukh amathalal
- Landfill, Phil Soar
- W-a-t-c-h! Fury online movie free full s.., afandi azhaa
- Inadequacy (Depression), Avuyile 'Avue' Maseko
- Sonnet: To My Doctor Boss, Dr John Celes
- Awakening, Dipankar Sadhukhan
Poem of the Day
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- I, Too, Langston Hughes
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Heather Burns
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(22 March 1941 -)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)