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Let me grow lovely, growing old—
So many fine things do:
Laces, and ivory, and gold,
And silks need not be new;
And there is healing in old trees.
Old streets a glamour hold:
Why may not I, as well as these,
Grow lovely, growing old?

— Karle Wilson Baker

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More quotes by Karle Wilson Baker

Some days my thoughts are just cocoons—all cold, and dull, and blind,
They hang from dripping branches in the gray woods of my mind;
And other days they drift and shine—such free and flying things!
I find the gold-dust in my hair, left by their brushing wings.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Karle Wilson Baker (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.