The everlasting grass—how bright, how cool! The day has gone too suddenly, too soon. There's something white and shiny in that pool— Throw in a stone, and you will hit the moon. Listen, the church-bell ringing! Do not say We must go back to-morrow to our work We'll tell them we are dead: we died to-day. We're lazy. We're too happy. We will shirk. We're cows. We're kettles. We'll be anything Except the manikins of time and fear. We'll start away to-morrow wandering, And nobody will notice in a year.... Now the great sun is slipping under ground. Grip firmly!—How the earth is whirling round! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM HIDDEN SOURCE by JEAN ANDERSON A LAY OF ST. GENGULPHUS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM PAULO POST ORDINATIONEM by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE BURDEN OF A SIGH by LEVI BISHOP ROMAN ANEMONES by MATHILDE BLIND THE IDLE SINGER: REACTION by QUINTIN BONE DEDICATIONS AND INSCRIPTIONS: 2. EPILOGUE: 5TH OCTOBER 1896 by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |