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31
THE PASSING WING
Oh would that Time were one immense To-day,
That we might sit for ever where boughs sing,
Amid these ripe hot ferns that light winds sway,
Safe from the Morrow's and the Past's dark thing:
Oh would that Love could make the wood-dream stay,
And stop Time's broad inexorable wing!
That we might sit for ever where boughs sing,
Amid these ripe hot ferns that light winds sway,
Safe from the Morrow's and the Past's dark thing:
Oh would that Love could make the wood-dream stay,
And stop Time's broad inexorable wing!
But no: Time's broad inexorable wing
Sweeps on for all: thou shalt not bid it stay.
What brings thee woe, brings others life's sweet thing,
Sweeps pain and fear, with joy and hope, away:
Love may not cry, while high boughs round it sing,
“Oh would that Time were one immense Today!”
Sweeps on for all: thou shalt not bid it stay.
What brings thee woe, brings others life's sweet thing,
32
Love may not cry, while high boughs round it sing,
“Oh would that Time were one immense Today!”
E.
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