And indeed there will be time | |
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, | |
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; | |
There will be time, there will be time | |
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; | |
There will be time to murder and create, | |
And time for all the works and days of hands | |
That lift and drop a question on your plate; | |
Time for you and time for me, | |
And time yet for a hundred indecisions, | |
And for a hundred visions and revisions, | |
Before the taking of a toast and tea. |
No comments:
Post a Comment