I would to heaven that I were so much clay, As I am blood, bone, marrow, passion, feeling -- Because at least the past were pass'd away -- And for the future -- (but I write this reeling, Having got drunk exceedingly to-day, So that I seem to stand upon the ceilling) I say -- the future is a serious mater -- And so -- for God's sake -- hock and soda-water! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM THE SEA by ROBERT BROWNING AFTERMATH by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: OCTOBER by EDMUND SPENSER THE CARPENTER by AMY BRUNER ALMY DEATH by EVGENY ABRAMOVICH BARATYNSKY THE HUNCHBACK by JOHN PEALE BISHOP TO THE MEMORY OF A FRIEND WHO DIED ON SABBATH MORNING by ELIZABETH BOGART |