Retrospect
Love's kisses spurned so long ago, Dead as the years, that o'er them flow; And now, my gilded treasuries Would I might give — for memories.
Georgia Douglas Johnson
Love's kisses spurned so long ago, Dead as the years, that o'er them flow; And now, my gilded treasuries Would I might give — for memories.
A single moment of youthful rejection now haunts the speaker. Long ago, she turned away from love’s kisses, and now those kisses feel dead, buried beneath the years that have passed. The stark words “spurned” and “dead” make the loss feel final. What surfaces is deep regret.
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