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.