Days Too Short

by William Henry Davies

When primroses are out in Spring,
And small, blue violets come between;
When merry birds sing on boughs green,
And rills, as soon as born, must sing;

When butterflies will make side-leaps,
As though escaped from Nature’s hand
Ere perfect quite; and bees will stand
Upon their heads in fragrant deeps;

When small clouds are so silvery white
Each seems a broken rimmed moon–
When such things are, this world too soon,
For me, doth wear the veil of night.

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The End

And that’s the End of the Poem

© Poetry Monster, 2021.

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