STRANGE CALENDAR
Reading edition
CONSIDERED by the logical brief clock That keeps no reckoning of blood’s unreason, I cannot board your minute at the dock Of this perpetual departure; I cannot wake Beside your name, for having welcomed light in a later season. Suppose my punctual hat should not arrive To-night at that known corner where the eyes Expect: if you should stand engraved with love Until through annuals of space I came to wive Your precarious dear doom—suppose, My Early One, suppose—— Or even should your bashful feet have fled, Yet one of me, arrived, shall pace the square; And one of me shall watch your not mine bed, Breathing upon your sleep; another shall have laid Himself in the revolving rock and, ageless, wait you there.