For a little while I am content to let time rule me. The crying of summer has ceased and the days in slow procession, go like tired monks up the steps to the monastery. Rest is good, and the quiet hours refresh me; but even now the barren fields cry out and mock my useless meditations while the waiting harrow defies my strength. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ELEGY UPON THE DEATH OF DOCTOR DONNE, DEAN OF PAUL'S by THOMAS CAREW THE YANKEE PRIVATEER by ARTHUR HALE ODES III, 29 by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by LAURA ELIZABETH HOWE RICHARDS BEAUTY MAKES US HAPPY by PHILIP AYRES THE LORD SPEAKS by KARLE WILSON BAKER LEMNISCUS AD COLUMNAM S. SIMEONIS STYLITAE APPENSUS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |