Henry Alford

Sonnet XLIX. "Long have we toiled, and passed from day to day"

Long have we toiled, and passed from day to day Our stated round of duties till the mind Reaches for change, and longs fresh paths to find From her accustomed dwelling far away: Come, then, dear wife, while yet the summer ray Fills all the air with gladness, and unbind Awhile the chains of duty; then reclined Where Derwent or where Dove in varied play Leaps through his mossy rocks, let us entice The wary trout, or ply the pencil's art; Or in some wooded dell that lies apart Woo the maid Poesy: no unworthy price Of year--long labour without ceasing wrought, And intermission of poetic thought.