To Daffodils

…from the quills of the dead white poets

 Robert Herrick (1591 – 1674)

 Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

You Haste away so soon;

As yet the early rising sum

Has not attained his moon.

Stay, stay,

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song;

And, having prayed together, we

Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,

We have as short a spring;

As quick a grow to meet decay,

As you, or anything.

We die

As your hours do, and dry

Away,

Like to the summer’s rain;

Or as pearls of morning’s dew,

Ne’er to be found again.

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2 Responses to To Daffodils

  1. Link Later II says:

    That’s how it should be! Good old Herrick!

  2. Lauren says:

    A good one! It’s excellent to learn to read you regularly, my pal.

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