O that week could be an age, and we Felt parting and warm meeting every week. Then one poor year a thousand years would be, The flush of welcome ever on the cheek: So could we live long life in little space, So time itself would be annihilate, So a day's journey in oblivious haze To serve our joys would lengthen and dilate. O to arrive each Monday morn from Ind! To land each Tuesday from the rich Levant! In little time a host of joys to bind, And keep our souls in one eternal pant! This morn, my friend, amd yester-evening taught Me how to harbour such a happy thought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I LOOKED FOR LIFE AND DID A SHADOW SEE by JAMES GALVIN SECRET LOVE; SONG by JOHN CLARE JOHN BROWN'S BODY by CHARLES SPRAGUE HALL ALCAICS: TO H. F. BROWN by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON LILIES: 6. MY BELOVED by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) BEATRICE by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ON A JUNIPER-TREE, CUT DOWN TO MAKE BUSKS by APHRA BEHN THE GEOGRAPHER'S GLORY; OR, THE GLOBE IN 1730 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |