The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth With Sixteen Illustrations. By Philip Gilbert Hamerton |
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 | The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth |  |
126
INDOLENCE.
My heart is wasting like a loosened vineThat clings to nothing, or an empty mine
Left hollow to the winds.
A spirit wanders in those chambers yet;
But, save the sorrows I would fain forget,
No theme for thought he finds.
He moulds them into polished rosary beads,
A dying plant produces withered seeds;
And round his brow he binds,
Not the green laurel—but a wreath of weeds.
| The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth | |