Color (Cullen)/Wisdom Cometh With the Years

by Countee Cullen

Wisdom Cometh With
the Years

NOW I am young and credulous,
My heart is quick to bleed
At courage in the tremulous
 Slow sprouting of a seed.

Now I am young and sensitive,
 Man's lack can stab me through;
I own no stitch I would not give
 To him that asked me to.

Now I am young and a fool for love,
 My blood goes mad to see
A brown girl pass me like a dove
 That flies melodiously.

Let me be lavish of my tears,
 And dream that false is true;
Though wisdom cometh with the years,
 The barren days come, too.