NOW is the perfect moment of the year. Half naked branches, half a mist of green, Vivid and delicate the slopes appear ; The cool, soft air is neither fierce nor keen, And in the temperate sun we feel no fear ; Of all the hours which shall be and have been, It is the briefest as it is most dear, It is the dearest as the shortest seen. O it was best, beloved, at the first. -- Our hands met gently, and our meeting sight Was steady ; on our senses scarce had burst The faint, fresh fragrance of the new delight. . . . I seek that clime, unknown, without a name, Where first and best and last shall be the same. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PORTRAIT OF MY ROOF by JAMES GALVIN EIGHTEEN-DOLLAR TAXI TRIP TO TIZAPAN AND BACK TO CHAPALA by CLARENCE MAJOR THE ATLANTIDES by HENRY DAVID THOREAU AUTUMN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THEODORE AND HONORIA by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO SONG ON THE EDGE OF WINTER by ANNA SHAW BUCK |