Hours of Idleness

Your shepherds, your flocks, thosefantastical themes, Perhaps may amuse,yet they never can move: Arcadiadisplays but a region of dreams; Whatare visions like these, to the first kiss oflove?When age chills the blood, when ourpleasures are past- For vears+00-away with the wings of the dove.hodearest remembrance will still be thelast. Our sweetest memorial. thekiss of love.