O days and hours, your work is this, To hold me from my proper place, A little while from his embrace, For fuller gain of after bliss: That out of distance might ensue Desire of nearness doubly sweet; And unto meeting when we meet, Delight a hundred-fold accrue. For every grain of sand that runs, And every span of shade that steals, And every kiss of toothed wheels, And all the courses of the suns. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLAD OF HUMAN LIFE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES SISTER LOU by STERLING ALLEN BROWN ODE [FOR MUSIC] ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY by ALEXANDER POPE APRIL, FR. LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |