TO SHAKESPEARE LONGER than thine, than thine, Is now my time of life; and thus thy years Seem to be clasped and harboured within mine. O how ignoble this my clasp appears! Thy unprophetic birth, Thy darkling death: living I might have seen That cradle, marked those labours, closed that earth. O first, O last, O infinite between! Now that my life has shared Thy dedicated date, O mortal, twice, To what all-vain embrace shall be compared My lean enclosure of thy paradise: To ignorant arms that fold A poet to a foolish breast? The Line, That is not, with the world within its hold? So, days with days, my days encompass thine. Child, Stripling, Man -- the sod. Might I talk little language to thee, pore On thy last silence? O thou city of God, My waste lies after thee, and lies before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRISONER OF CHILLON: INTRODUCTORY SONNET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE LOVE OF CHRIST WHICH PASSETH KNOWLEDGE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 14. 'I LOVE THEE' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE FLOWERY ALCHEMIST by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |