Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TIME AND LOVE; AN ALLEGORY, by JOHN GODFREY SAXE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TIME AND LOVE; AN ALLEGORY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Old time and young love, on a morning in may
Last Line: While he tugs at his oar and keeps steadily on!
Subject(s): Love; Time


OLD Time and young Love, on a morning in May,
Chanced to meet by a river in halcyon weather,
And, agreeing for once ('t is a fable, you'll say),
In the same little boat made a voyage together.

Strong, steady, and patient, Time pulled at his oar,
And swift o'er the water the voyagers go;
But Love, who was thinking of Pleasure on shore,
Complained that his boatman was wretchedly slow.

But Time, the old sailor, expert at his trade,
And knowing the leagues that remained to be done,
Content with the regular speed that he made,
Tugged away at his oar and kept steadily on.

Love, always impatient of doubt or delay,
Now sighed for the aid of the favoring gales,
And scolded at Time, in the sauciest way,
For not having furnished the shallop with sails.

But Time, as serene as a calendar saint
(Whatever the graybeard was thinking upon),
All deaf to the voice of the younker's complaint,
Tugged away at his oar and kept steadily on.

Love, vexed at the heart, only clamored the more,
And cried, "By the gods! in what country or clime
Was ever a lubber who handled an oar
In so lazy a fashion as old Father Time?"

But Time only smiled in a cynical way
('T is often the mode with your elderly Don),
As one who knows more than he cares to display,
And still at his oar pulled steadily on.

Grown calmer at last, the exuberant boy
Enlivens the minutes with snatches of rhyme;
The voyage, at length, he begins to enjoy,
And soon has forgotten the presence of Time!

But Time, the severe, egotistical elf,
Since the day that his travels he entered upon,
Has ne'er for a moment forgotten himself,
But tugs at his oar and keeps steadily on.

Awaking once more, Love sees with a sigh
That the River of Life will be presently passed,
And now he breaks forth with a piteous cry,
"O Time, gentle Time! you are rowing too fast!"

But Time, well knowing that Love will be dead,
Dead, -- dead! in the boat! -- ere the voyage is done,
Only gives him an ominous shake of the head,
While he tugs at his oar and keeps steadily on!





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