Those myriad hours and days unwillingly spent In total want of aught to give Time worth, Cut not upon the granite monument, But strike them from the record of my birth. Upon the registration leaf mark not Dull clock told age -- years utterly devoid Of things remembered gladly -- nor allot To me Time measured but not Time enjoyed. One moment may be immortality! Yet since this world must keep its mortal file, Within the book set down my natal day As when we met; my end -- shall I foretell? The day I lose you. Calendared by you My record has authority as true. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHRISTMAS GHOST-STORY; CHRISTMAS-EVE 1899 by THOMAS HARDY THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT A DIGIT OF THE MOON by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT AN ASSURANCE by NICHOLAS BRETON AN OLD TOMB OPENED by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON AN EPISTLE TO J. BL-K-N, ESQ.: ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST by JOHN BYROM |