“Love took up the glass of Time, and turn’d it in his glowing hands.”–Tennyson, “Locksley Hall”
The city wakes up with the dawning
People run to catch their bus
We almost sleep in, we’re both yawning
Rushing out is not for us
chorus:
And time together never seems like time at all
True love never dies even though the leaves must fall
And time with you was the most special time of all
The evening bed was warm and golden
Like dreams of children at their games
We made love and it made us older
We would never be the same
chorus
We sat up and watched the traffic
Thinning out a half-past two
We held each other in the silence
Until the morning light shone through
chorus
………………………………………………………
1969-1970. Leonard Cohen said one of the first eloquent protests is to stay up all night–a moment of being if ever there was one. The city by early dawn has a special quality about it, as Wordsworth noted in “Composed on Westminster Bridge”. I believe one function of writing is to freeze some special moments in time, to preserve the moment of being quality about them.