Poems (Cromwell)/Idleness

by Gladys Cromwell

IDLENESS

I feel the stress
Of life's unmeaning days:
Oh, how the vain past weighs
My will—the vacant seasons numberless!

The clear device
Intrepid thoughts define,—
The glowing, bravo design—
Elude the weary shuttle twice and thrice.

I lose the whole in shreds;
The sombre days unroll,
And I must spend my dole
Of time untwisting ravelled threads.