No harvest shall they store Who squander hopes galore On May, nor mind September -- Remember, boy, remember! Though corn be ripe for hook, They'll wander off with brook To fairy fields unplanted -- Enchanted, boy, enchanted! And though their timothy Wait scythe, they'd rather see Diana's sickle mow it -- I know it, boy, I know it! But if, down autumn's day, You spend desires on May Nor heed what I'm professing -- My blessing, boy, my blessing! And should you haply sing Green leaves, while harvesting Their ghostly gold above you -- God love you, boy, God love you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO GALLANT FRANCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON THE SUN COMING OUT IN THE AFTERNOON by HENRY DAVID THOREAU TITA'S TEARS; A FANTASY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH BEAUTY by WILLIMINA L. ARMSTRONG SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 36. STRONG, LIKE THE SEA by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |