by Robert Laurence Binyon
The rain was ending, and light
Lifting the leaden skies.
It shone upon ceiling and floor
And dazzled a child's eyes.
Pale after fever, a captive
Apart from his schoolfellows,
He stood at the high room's window
With face to the pane pressed close,
And beheld an immense glory
Flooding with fire the drops
Spilled on miraculous leaves
Of the fresh green lime--tree tops.
Washed gravel glittered red
To a wall, and beyond it nine
Tall limes in the old inn yard
Rose over the tall inn sign.
And voices arose from beneath
Of boys from school set free,
Racing and chasing each other
With laughter and games and glee.
To the boy at the high room--window,
Gazing alone and apart,
There came a wish without reason,
A thought that shone through his heart.
I'll choose this moment and keep it,
He said to himself, for a vow,
To remember for ever and ever
As if it were always now.
Last updated January 14, 2019