How much would it be better if they knew
Their lines? If such emotion can be drawn
From minds that unremember what has gone
Before, then how much might they come to do
If all could be remembered through and through?
It would be like the rising of the dawn
Upon an arctic land, a frozen lawn
Awaiting melting. Oh, if it were true!
For then the show, like Anchorage in spring
Should see itself and pleasure in the sight;
Letting the months of summer warmly cling
Knowing the winter and the endless night
Are coming, but enjoying for the time
The pleasantest environ of the clime.
No comments:
Post a Comment