Time, at his kindest, hath wild wings to fly with, So eyes that dance are after used to cry with. Would when young lovers meet And not a creature nigh them They might trip up Time's feet, Lay him scytheless on the grass, Clip his wings and break his glass And keep him ever by them, Making of one June brief night Ages and aeons of delight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY [OR, DAFFYDOWNDILLY] by MOTHER GOOSE LAST AND WORST by FRANCES EKIN ALLISON SPRING COURAGE by MADELINE BENEDICT A YEAR'S SPINNING by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING PLAINT OF THE PINE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE HOME-RETURNING by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |