There never comes a day like this -- all gold And shining like a bubble in the sun, But I recall the afternoon I told You I'd no time for play: work must be done! @3Work must be done@1, and there the gold day wasted, And there the mellowness of earth and sky And leaf and air went hour by hour untasted, For scruples sewn too well in such as I! And there October's brightness faded, turning Her dear enchantment into dull November, And setting in my brain one question burning: Now what can I, now what can I remember Of work I bent above that day until It was too late to climb the golden hill? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MISS KILMANSEGG AND HER PRECIOUS LEG: HER MORAL by THOMAS HOOD ULTIMA THULE: THE TIDE RISES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN by ALFRED TENNYSON A SONNET. ON CYNTHIA SICK by PHILIP AYRES SHADOWS OF RECOLLECTION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE BROTHERS OF BIRCHINGTON; A LAY OF ST. THOMAS A BECKET by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 2. AND YET by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |