It was a day of feeling. It was our world, the lake at our back, in front of us the cars scooting past. We were in no hurry where we sat. It seemed right, with nothing to make us leave or want to leave, but then those cars reminded us of worlds going in so many directions. Without wanting to admit it, this too had its beautiful side because of being so futile, this bother and rush people persisted in as if nothing else existed; that if this was what they persisted in doing then it was possible nothing else did exist. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 4 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TO DIANEME (1) by ROBERT HERRICK IN THE VALLEY OF CAUTERETZ by ALFRED TENNYSON SONNET: TO J.M.K. by ALFRED TENNYSON TWO SONGS FROM THE PERSIAN: 1 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |