V.How can I think, or edge my thoughts to action,When the miserly press of each day’s needAches to a narrowness of spilled distractionMy soul appalled at the world’s work’s time-greed?How can I pause my thoughts upon the taskMy soul was born to think that it must doWhen every moment has a thought to askTo fit the immediate craving of its cue?The coin I’d heap for marrying my MuseAnd build our home i’th’ greater Time-to-beBecomes dissolved by needs of each day’s useAnd I feel beggared of infinity,Like a true-Christian sinner, each day flesh-drivenBy his own act to forfeit his wished heaven.
How can I think, or edge my thoughts to action,When the miserly press of each day’s needAches to a narrowness of spilled distractionMy soul appalled at the world’s work’s time-greed?How can I pause my thoughts upon the taskMy soul was born to think that it must doWhen every moment has a thought to askTo fit the immediate craving of its cue?The coin I’d heap for marrying my MuseAnd build our home i’th’ greater Time-to-beBecomes dissolved by needs of each day’s useAnd I feel beggared of infinity,Like a true-Christian sinner, each day flesh-drivenBy his own act to forfeit his wished heaven.