OTEDIOUS Idleness How irksome is Thy foolish Nothing! When all day I strugled through the craggiedst Way Of knottiest Learning to gett up To the fair top Of some deer Knowledge, I did never fynd My Body half so tir'd, so damp'd my Mynd. 2 So tir'd, & damp'd as now: For monstrous Thou Thwart'st ev'n my Essence, & dost choke My sprightfull Flame in drowsy smoke. Surely a Soule which dwells among A quick & strong Consort of Organs, ne'r was seated there To lend to @3Sloths@1 dull Pipe her active Ear. 3 Were I to Curse my Foe, I'd damne Him to No Hell but Thee; in whose blinde grott He, though in health, might lie & rott, And prove Deaths wretched Sacrifice Before he dies; Whilst He himself doth to Himself become Both ye dead Carcase, & the living Tombe. 4 May some Work ever keep Mine Eyes from Sleep Whilst they are wakeing! though it be But some poor Song to throw at Thee Mischeivous @3Sloth.@1 Alas, I grutch That I so much Of this my little Time expend, whilst I All night seald up in lazie Slumbres lie. 5 The longest Summer Day Strait posts away. An honestly imployed Mynd Doth shriveld-up December fynd In wide-spred June; & thinks black Night Crowds out fair Light As soon when Sol through lofty @3Cancer@1 rides, As when down to the @3Fishes@1 depth he slides. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD SEXTON by PARK BENJAMIN THE CAPTAIN; AFTER READING HENLEY'S INVICTUS by DOROTHEA DAY THE SUBALTERNS by THOMAS HARDY THE WHITE HOUSE by CLAUDE MCKAY AFTER THE PLEASURE PARTY by HERMAN MELVILLE TO THE NIGHTINGALE by JOHN MILTON |