Leisure
IfI should make no poems any moreThere would be rest at least, so let it be;Time to read books in other tongues and listenTo the long mellow thunder of the sea.The year will turn for me, I shall delight inAll animals, and some of my own kind,Sharing with no one but myself the frostyAnd half ironic musings of my mind.
IfI should make no poems any moreThere would be rest at least, so let it be;Time to read books in other tongues and listenTo the long mellow thunder of the sea.The year will turn for me, I shall delight inAll animals, and some of my own kind,Sharing with no one but myself the frostyAnd half ironic musings of my mind.
IfI should make no poems any moreThere would be rest at least, so let it be;Time to read books in other tongues and listenTo the long mellow thunder of the sea.
IfI should make no poems any more
There would be rest at least, so let it be;
Time to read books in other tongues and listen
To the long mellow thunder of the sea.
The year will turn for me, I shall delight inAll animals, and some of my own kind,Sharing with no one but myself the frostyAnd half ironic musings of my mind.
The year will turn for me, I shall delight in
All animals, and some of my own kind,
Sharing with no one but myself the frosty
And half ironic musings of my mind.