We have a bed and we have a child, My wife! And work we've for two--all our own to call, And rain and the wind and the sunshine mild. We are lacking now but one thing small To be as free as the birds so wild: Time--that's all! When on Sundays through the fields we go, My child, And see how the swallows to and fro Are shooting over the grain-stalks tall, Oh, we lack not clothes, though our share is small, To be as fair as the birds so wild: Time--that's all. But time! We're scenting a tempest wild, We people! Eternity our own to call-- That's what we lack, my wife, my child, And all that blooms through us, the small, To make us gay as the birds so wild: Time--that's all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ANCIENT TO ANCIENTS by THOMAS HARDY LINES COMPOSED AT GRASMERE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ROSAMOND: KING HENRY'S SONG by JOSEPH ADDISON HOMAGE TO QUINTUS SEPTIMIUS FLORENTIS CHRISTIANUS: TROY by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS WE'LL GO NO MORE THE WOODLAND WAY by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE TO A FRIEND ON HER BIRTH-DAY by BERNARD BARTON THE ATAVISTIC MAID by BERTON BRALEY ADVICE TO THE REVERENDS ON THEIR PREACHING SLOWLY by JOHN BYROM |