To His Coy Summer Break

To His Coy Summer Break

Had we but world enough and time,

This coyness, summer break, were no crime.

We would sit down, and think which way

To lay, and pass our endless day.

Thou by the end of exams side

Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide

Of a late slumber would complain. I would

Love you longer than I probably should

And you will, if you please, refuse

Till the end of school is old news.

My vegetable love should grow

Vaster than the length of day and more slow;

An hundred years should go to praise

Thine weather, and on thy memories gaze;

Two hundred to adore each lack of test,

But thirty thousand to the rest;

An age at least to every part,

And the last age should show your heart.

For, summer break, you deserve this mate,

Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear

Adulthood’s jobs hurrying near;

And yonder all before us lie

Deserts of vast responsibility.

Thy beauty shall no more be around;

Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound

My echoing song; then a boss shall try

That long-preserved magic,

And your flashy honour turn to dust,

And into ashes all my activities that are a must;

The real world a fine and interesting place,

But none, I think, do there have time for another embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue

Rests on my thoughts like all my dreams come true,

And while thy wily soul transpires

At every day to fill all my youthful desires,

Now let us be free while we may,

And now, like teenage lads of an endless day,

Rather at once our time devour

Than languish in this land of brain power.

Let us roll all our stress and all

Our worries up into one ball,

And cut it like a knife

Through the rigid gates of a further life:

Thus, though we cannot make our sun

Stand still, yet we will make him let us have all our fun.


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