 | Stones from The Quarry |  |
“KILLING TIME.”
This Life, or, rather, Death-in-Life; this mockAnd travesty of life, where life doth turn
And gnaw itself; nought toiling for, doth earn
And relish nought, as it deserves; doth shock
All moral sense! Like idiot doth it knock
And ring at Pleasure's gates, yet will not turn
Away, nor “Not at home,” writ large, discern
On all the empty house and stand-still clock!
O fools! who at the shadow clutch, and lose
The substance in the lapsing stream of Time.
True Pleasure, whose high name ye thus abuse,
Ye know not—your lése-majesty and crime
'Gainst her, and all that in Man's life's sublime,
She thus resents, and by loss teaches use!
| Stones from The Quarry | |