JOYFUL lady, sing! And I will lurk here listening, Though nought be done, and nought begun, And work-hours swift are scurrying. Sing, O lady, still! Aye, I will wait each note you trill, Though duties due that press to do This whole day long I unfulfil. "-- It is an evening tune; One not designed to waste the noon," You say. I know: time bids me go -- For daytide passes too, too soon! But let indulgence be, This once, to my rash ecstasy: When sounds nowhere that carolled air My idled morn may comfort me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW THE GREAT GUEST CAME by EDWIN MARKHAM SEVEN AGES OF MAN, FR. AS YOU LIKE IT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE OUTCAST by HELEN MCCRORY ARENDELL TO JOANNA, ON SENDING ME THE LEAF OF A FLOWER ... WORDSWORTH'S GARDEN by BERNARD BARTON ROUNDEL FOR THESE TIMES by ADELIA DOOLITTLE BAUER |