15 November 2010


1432
Can you distill the time,
To make pale hours a dark
Moment's condensation?
It would of brevity taste,
Brief pain, brief desire;
For the body makes its own liquor,
From the lightest touch a depth,
But years are slighter than a day
And want this still to hold them:
Time as hapless ends as it beginning tends
To suddenness and fury.