Poetry Tuesday: XX

I’ll admit. I’m a sucker for personification. I love poems or short stories or narratives that give objects or abstracts a personality. I read a poem way back in one of my first literature classes written from the perspective of a mirror, and I kid you not whenever I’m having a particularly vain moment I wonder what my mirror thinks of me. I’m also a sucker for really old things. Sometimes I write with a quill pen, and I have old fashioned stationary and a wax sealingkit, because I can. So for today’s Poetry Tuesday, I combine two of my favorite things with work from Milton. Happy Tuesday!

On Time

FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race;
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet’s pace;
And glut thyself with what they womb devours,
Which is no more than what is false and vain,
And merely mortal dross;
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain!
For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb’d,
And last of all thy greedy self consumed,
Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss
With an individual kiss;
And Joy shall overtake us as a flood,
When every thing that is sincerely good
And perfectly divine,
With Truth and Peace and Love, shall ever shine
About the supreme throne
Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone
When once our heavenly guided soul shall climb;
Then, all this earthly grossness quit,
Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit,
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O Time! – John Milton

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