Four o'clock this afternoon, <br />Fifteen hundred miles away: <br />So it goes, the crazy tune, <br />So it pounds and hums all day <br /> <br />Four o'clock this afternoon, <br />Earth will hide them far away: <br />Best they go to go so soon, <br />Best for them the grave to-day. <br /> <br />Had she gone but half so soon, <br />Half the world had passed away. <br />Four o'clock this afternoon, <br />Best for them they go to-day. <br /> <br />Four o'clock this afternoon, <br />Love will hide them deep, they say; <br />Love that made the grave so soon, <br />Fifteen hundred miles away: <br /> <br />Four o'clock this afternoon, <br />Ah, but they go slow to-day: <br />Slow to suit my crazy tune, <br />Past the need of all we say. <br /> <br />Best it came to come so soon, <br />Best for them they go to-day: <br />Four o'clock this afternoon, <br />Fifteen hundred miles away.<br /><br />Edwin Arlington Robinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cort-ge/
