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.