Defiantly impatient, I prod the flank of fate And urge the lagging hour to bear me on; Each day I tell my soul I cannot wait For years to pass before the month has gone. My vision taunts the present's pointless change, A dreamer's hunger gnaws my heaving breast; The fields of distance shine with bright unrest And I demand of life a wider range. Away with simple rules of sure success, To venture is to find a dearer prize; Soft lips, and rounded cheeks and women's thighs -- What heaven could offer more or less? Though Circe turned her lovers into swine, No man denied her kisses were divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LADY'S 'YES' by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING OF THE MANNER OF ADDRESSING CLOUDS by WALLACE STEVENS FOR THE YOUNGEST by CHARLES WESLEY BALLADE OF EGREGIOUSNESS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A LITTLE PARABLE by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH I WOULD NOT LIFT THY VEIL by A. LOUISE ASHWORTH THE STATESMEN by AMBROSE BIERCE |