To Time it never seems that he is brave To set himself against the peaks of snow To lay them level with the running wave, Nor is he overjoyed when they lie low, But only grave, contemplative and grave. What now is inland shall be ocean isle, Then eddies playing round a sunken reef Like the curl at the corner of a smile; And I could share Time's lack of joy or grief At such a planetary change of style. I could give all to Time except - except What I myself have held. But why declare The things forbidden that while the Customs slept I have crossed to Safety with? For I am There, And what I would not part with I have kept. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DESOLATE FIELD by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS WRITTEN IN EMERSON'S ESSAYS by MATTHEW ARNOLD EXILE OF ERIN by THOMAS CAMPBELL LOVE'S APPARITION AND EVANISHMENT; AN ALLEGORICAL ROMANCE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE HILL WIFE: THE OFT-REPEATED DREAM by ROBERT FROST THE SELF-UNSEEING by THOMAS HARDY THREE MOMENTS IN PARIS: 1. ONE O'CLOCK AT NIGHT by MINA LOY |