JOYFUL lady, sing! And I will lurk here listening, Though nought be done, and nought begun, And work-hours swift are scurrying. Sing, O lady, still! Aye, I will wait each note you trill, Though duties due that press to do This whole day long I unfulfil. "-- It is an evening tune; One not designed to waste the noon," You say. I know: time bids me go -- For daytide passes too, too soon! But let indulgence be, This once, to my rash ecstasy: When sounds nowhere that carolled air My idled morn may comfort me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHT IN ARIZONA by SARA TEASDALE ASOLANDO: NOW by ROBERT BROWNING GREEN RIVER by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS by FRANCIS HOPKINSON WRITTEN ON THE LEAVES OF A FAN by FRANCIS ATTERBURY THE LAMENT: A BALLAD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE LAST MAN: INSIGNIFICANCE OF THE WORLD by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |