No harvest shall they store Who squander hopes galore On May, nor mind September -- Remember, boy, remember! Though corn be ripe for hook, They'll wander off with brook To fairy fields unplanted -- Enchanted, boy, enchanted! And though their timothy Wait scythe, they'd rather see Diana's sickle mow it -- I know it, boy, I know it! But if, down autumn's day, You spend desires on May Nor heed what I'm professing -- My blessing, boy, my blessing! And should you haply sing Green leaves, while harvesting Their ghostly gold above you -- God love you, boy, God love you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JEALOUS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE BARON'S LAST BANQUET by ALBERT GORTON GREENE MAKE FRIENDS by ALI IBN ABU TALIB CITY AND VILLAGE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON OVID TO HIS WIFE: IMITATED FROM DIFFERENT PARTS OF TRISTIA by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |