Summer and Time by Elizabeth Jennings
Now when the days descend
We do not let them lie
But ponder on the end,
How morning air drained dry
Of mist will but contend
Later with the evening sky.
And so we mix up time.
Children, we say, ignore
Before and after, chime
Only the present hour.
But we are wrong, they climb
What time is aiming for
But beg no lastingness.
And it is we who try
In every hour to press
Befores and afters, sigh
All the great hour’s success
And set the spoiling by.
Heavy the heat today
Even the clocks seem slow.
But children make no play
With summers years ago.
It is we who betray
Who tease the sun-dial so.
From Auguries of Innocence by William Blake
To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
