Classic Poem

Sometimes even now I may
Steal a prisoner's holiday,
Slip, when all is worst, the bands,
— Hurry back, and duck beneath
Time's old tyrannous groping hands,
— Speed away with laughing breath
Back to all I'll never know,
Back to you, a year ago.

Truant there from Time and Pain,
What I had, I find again:
Sunlight in the boughs above,
— Sunlight in your hair and dress,
The Hands too proud for all but Love,
— The Lips of utter kindliness,
The Heart of bravery swift and clean
— Where the best was safe, I knew,
And laughter in the gold and green,
— And song, and friends, and ever you
With smiling and familiar eyes,
— You — but friendly: you — but true.

And Innocence accounted wise,
— And Faith the fool, the pitiable.
Love so rare, one would swear
— All of earth for ever well —
Careless lips and flying hair,
— And little things I may not tell.
It does but double the heart-ache
When I wake, when I wake.

Sometimes even now I may
Steal a prisoner's holiday,
Slip, when all is worst, the bands,
— Hurry back, and duck beneath
Time's old tyrannous groping hands,
— Speed away with laughing breath
Back to all I'll never know,
Back to you, a year ago.

Truant there from Time and Pain,
What I had, I find again:
Sunlight in the boughs above,
— Sunlight in your hair and dress,
The Hands too proud for all but Love,
— The Lips of utter kindliness,
The Heart of bravery swift and clean
— Where the best was safe, I knew,
And laughter in the gold and green,
— And song, and friends, and ever you
With smiling and familiar eyes,
— You — but friendly: you — but true.

And Innocence accounted wise,
— And Faith the fool, the pitiable.
Love so rare, one would swear
— All of earth for ever well —
Careless lips and flying hair,
— And little things I may not tell.
It does but double the heart-ache
When I wake, when I wake.

Sometimes even now I may
Steal a prisoner's holiday,
Slip, when all is worst, the bands,
— Hurry back, and duck beneath
Time's old tyrannous groping hands,
— Speed away with laughing breath
Back to all I'll never know,
Back to you, a year ago.

Truant there from Time and Pain,
What I had, I find again:
Sunlight in the boughs above,
— Sunlight in your hair and dress,
The Hands too proud for all but Love,
— The Lips of utter kindliness,
The Heart of bravery swift and clean
— Where the best was safe, I knew,
And laughter in the gold and green,
— And song, and friends, and ever you
With smiling and familiar eyes,
— You — but friendly: you — but true.

And Innocence accounted wise,
— And Faith the fool, the pitiable.
Love so rare, one would swear
— All of earth for ever well —
Careless lips and flying hair,
— And little things I may not tell.
It does but double the heart-ache
When I wake, when I wake.