A QUESTION OF TIME
Suggesting, in blank verse or rhyme,
To Jack and Joan the theme of time,
I met with instant opposition;
And yet that old man with a mission
Leaning above the sundial shade
Or dreaming while a fountain played
Has prompted many a sigh or saying
.'
From some who stopped to watch him playing.
It seemed dispiriting that one
So linked with water, air and sun,
Respected in so many quarters,
Should languish, and have no supporters.
Time, with so long a pedigree,
Now waited felling, like a tree;
And while they asked for something fresher,
I paused, then yielded under pressure.
There seemed no object in reclaiming
One who had once required our taming.
What now? In all themes they propose
I recognize what I first chose.
You cannot tame with hoe or mattock
That wild horse racing round the paddock,
And they alone find freedom who
Ride him above the shade he threw.
In dream or action, pain or pleasure,
Beneath all beats a hooflike measure.
Whether the season sow or spend,
Moving to its predicted end,
Air has a point which every swallow
Finds in the sky to touch and follow.
The law of time, there disobeyed,
Defines the leaf which cannot fade.
Imagination, young yet older,
