Poems By Mary Elizabeth Coleridge |
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 | Poems |  |
CXXVIII
SOUNDS
The clock!
A crowing cock!
And under these
The murmur of the wind among the trees,
The hum of bees.
A crowing cock!
And under these
The murmur of the wind among the trees,
The hum of bees.
128
The clock is busy Man with Time at strife,
Wasting brief hours to measure out his life!
The cock vainglorious Man chanting his praise,
Forgetful of the time—how short the days!
Wasting brief hours to measure out his life!
The cock vainglorious Man chanting his praise,
Forgetful of the time—how short the days!
The wind is Man, dreaming and dreaming still,
Silence with music evermore to fill.
The bee is Man that neither hastes nor shirks,
Not happy and unhappy as he works.
Silence with music evermore to fill.
The bee is Man that neither hastes nor shirks,
Not happy and unhappy as he works.
| Poems | |