'THE clock struck one! we take no thought of Time,' Wrapt up in night, and meditating rhyme: All big with vision, we despise the powers That vulgar beings link to days and hours; Those vile, mechanic things, that rule our hearts, And cut our lives in momentary parts. 'That speech of Time was Wisdom's gift,' said Young; Ah, Doctor! better Time would hold his tongue: What serves the clock? 'To warn the careless crew How much in little space they have to do; To bid the busy world resign their breath, And beat each moment a soft call for death -- To give it, then, a tongue, was wise in man.' Support the assertion, Doctor, if you can: It tells the ruffian when his comrades wait; It calls the duns to crowd my hapless gate; It tells my heart the paralysing tale, Of hours to come, when Misery must prevail. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THOSE VARIOUS SCALPELS by MARIANNE MOORE TO THE DAISY (2) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE HYMNARY: 403. MARTYRS by ADAM OF SAINT VICTOR SARGENT'S PORTRAIT OF EDWIN BOOTH AT THE PLAYERS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE GUERDON by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE SEVEN OLD MEN; TO VICTOR HUGO by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |