Jean Francois Millet |
To Daffodils
Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain'd his noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And, having pray'd together, we
Will go with you along.
We have short time to stay, as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.
We die
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer's rain;
Or as the pearls of morning's dew,
Ne'er to be found again.
Robert Herrick
Why is it that beauty so often makes us think of loss? Is Time always stealing our joys? Is the fact that they are slipping away from us part of what makes them so precious? Sometimes I wish there were more poems about things that stay - "Stay! stay!" I do not want the beauty to fade. I want it to last.
Why is it that beauty so often makes us think of loss? Is Time always stealing our joys? Is the fact that they are slipping away from us part of what makes them so precious? Sometimes I wish there were more poems about things that stay - "Stay! stay!" I do not want the beauty to fade. I want it to last.
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