FIVE minutes, all I have to spare, But these, my Own, I give to you! Your precious letter 's lying there, So full and fond, so dear and true. I think you'll hardly hope to hear, As I shall soon be home again, But you'll get this at seven, dear, I'm due at eight, and @3then@1—oh @3then!@1 A hurried word or two assures That all is safe and well, my dove. My notes are not so long as yours, Though worth as much in golden love. So where I've been, and whom I've seen. And how, and why, and what, and when, I'll tell you when we meet, my queen, At eight o'clock,—and @3then@1—oh @3then!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRELUDES: 1-4 (COMPLETE) by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT OLD KING COLE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE DALLIANCE OF THE EAGLES by WALT WHITMAN LET US REASON TOGETHER by LEVI BISHOP PLAINT OF A YOUNG LAWYER by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE GRACE AFTER MEAT (3) by ROBERT BURNS |