Defiantly impatient, I prod the flank of fate And urge the lagging hour to bear me on; Each day I tell my soul I cannot wait For years to pass before the month has gone. My vision taunts the present's pointless change, A dreamer's hunger gnaws my heaving breast; The fields of distance shine with bright unrest And I demand of life a wider range. Away with simple rules of sure success, To venture is to find a dearer prize; Soft lips, and rounded cheeks and women's thighs -- What heaven could offer more or less? Though Circe turned her lovers into swine, No man denied her kisses were divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FACADE: 2. THE BAT by EDITH SITWELL THE THANKSGIVING IN BOSTON HARBOR [JUNE 12, 1630] by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH A MOTHER TO HER SICK CHILD by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES ASTRONOMY by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE DARK ANGEL by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON HEART'S-EASE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR ROSE AYLMER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR |