I WAS STILL A CHILD by Margaret Widdemer

I WAS still a child
  Till I came to you,
Child-eyes, child-heart,
  Child-lips all too true;

I went silently,
  With all-wondering eyes . . .
"She is old," they said,
  "She is grave and wise."

Came your touch that burned
  Eyes and lips and heart;
There were no more dreams
  I could spin, apart:

Now my lips are gay
  And my heart untold;
"She is young," they say . . .
  I am old– am old!