 | The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill |  |
186
THE TRUANT
“Sent out, was I, to turn the sod?
What waste of such a day!
Who would not, under blue like that,
Fling the old spade away?
If they but knew the ripples' plash,
And loved the lark as I!
How could one dig, and half the time
Gaze at the luscious sky?
Better to watch my dipping kite
Go swaying up the cloud,
Or mock the tireless thrush, or shout
My own free songs aloud.”
What waste of such a day!
Who would not, under blue like that,
Fling the old spade away?
If they but knew the ripples' plash,
And loved the lark as I!
How could one dig, and half the time
Gaze at the luscious sky?
Better to watch my dipping kite
Go swaying up the cloud,
Or mock the tireless thrush, or shout
My own free songs aloud.”
So half the day he gazed, and wished
The tugging kite to be,
And wondered if that endless sky
Was not eternity.
Or, tossing snowy pebbles out
Beyond the lake's gray rim,
He stood to watch the ripple-ranks
Come ringing back to him.
The tugging kite to be,
And wondered if that endless sky
Was not eternity.
Or, tossing snowy pebbles out
Beyond the lake's gray rim,
He stood to watch the ripple-ranks
Come ringing back to him.
Was it, I wonder, loitering there
Only an idle boy?
Or was it a poet, claiming so
His heritage of joy?
Who watched above the rounded world
His fancy float and swim,
Or tossed his dreams out, watching men's
Brave deeds ring back to him.
Only an idle boy?
187
His heritage of joy?
Who watched above the rounded world
His fancy float and swim,
Or tossed his dreams out, watching men's
Brave deeds ring back to him.
| The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill | |