Poems (Duer)/Wasted Time
WASTED TIME.
Now, some people there be Who would argue with me On the pleasure of working for working's sake, Of the joys that you find When you force your mind New mountains to climb and new pathways to take.
Now they learn how to cook From a cookery book; They nurse the poor sick, or go visiting crime: Seven fads in a day Are not too much, for theyWould do anything rather than waste their time.
There are classes, indeed, Fit for anyone's need: To play cards, the piano, or, sometimes, the deuce! To make Browning seem plain, To paint castles in Spain—But if you ve no talent, why, what is the use?
And a few collect things, Such as butterflies wings, And I collect words into versatile rhyme; Yet I think, on the whole, For the good of my soul, I should rather do nothing than waste my time.
C. D.