As one of some fat tillage dispossessed, <br />Weighing the yield of these four faded years, <br />If any ask what fruit seems loveliest, <br />What lasting gold among the garnered ears, -- <br />Ah, then I'll say what hours I had of thine, <br />Therein I reaped Time's richest revenue, <br />Read in thy text the sense of David's line, <br />Through thee achieved the love that Shakespeare knew. <br />Take then his book, laden with mine own love <br />As flowers made sweeter by deep-drunken rain, <br />That when years sunder and between us move <br />Wide waters, and less kindly bonds constrain, <br />Thou may'st turn here, dear boy, and reading see <br />Some part of what thy friend once felt for thee.<br /><br />Alan Seeger<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/with-a-copy-of-shakespeare-s-sonnets-on-leaving/
