Friday, October 07, 2005
The air is cooler then, and hurry dies
In quiet concert with the fading light.
And if all light should dim before your eyes,
Know: longing won't restore a waning sight,
But squanders precious courage penny-wise.
If dawn will never come, trim not your lamp;
Decant the wine, and summon friends to sing.
By this your last impression leave some stamp
Upon recalling hearts to ease the sting
That dawns are numbered yet for prince or tramp—
And bring a smile with their remembering.
© 2005 Jeffrey Hull