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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
313
IV. DRUDGERY.
Pleasant it is, at close of weary day,When all is out of sight that vexed the mind
To dull routine or petty task confined,—
Pleasant with intermitting chat to say
‘This easy converse fully doth repay
The morning's labour.’ Search! and you shall find
That only toil upon some work assigned
Can fit foundation for such leisure lay.
My friends are gone; these things I think and feel,
As o'er the dewy grass a path I make:
Some distant waggon with its labouring wheel
Betrays the silence which it seems to break;
Slow, heavy perfumes o'er the garden steal;
The flickering branches in the moonbeam shake.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |