O that week could be an age, and we Felt parting and warm meeting every week. Then one poor year a thousand years would be, The flush of welcome ever on the cheek: So could we live long life in little space, So time itself would be annihilate, So a day's journey in oblivious haze To serve our joys would lengthen and dilate. O to arrive each Monday morn from Ind! To land each Tuesday from the rich Levant! In little time a host of joys to bind, And keep our souls in one eternal pant! This morn, my friend, amd yester-evening taught Me how to harbour such a happy thought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMPLAINT OF THE ABSENCE OF HER LOVER BEING UPON THE SEA by HENRY HOWARD ADLESTROP by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS ON THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF READING MATTER by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE MARCH OF XERXES by LUIGI ALAMANNI THE SPAN OF LIFE by LEVI BISHOP |