leisure

I have not blogged for three days. Time has been taken up with housekeeping, administrivia, socializing, getting my head round WordPress, and dwamming. I could have dealt with the chores more quickly and thus freed up attention to contemplate the infinite. But I did not.

I no longer have an appetite for extreme busy-ness and a bulging to do list. And I do not always appreciate how much of a good thing this is. I have the time to stand and stare and the words of the one-legged vagabond poet remind me to make good use of it.

"Leisure"

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.



By Wm. Henry Davies.

(Wm. Henry Davies (1871-1940) is to be considered as the poet of the tramps. According to Chambers, Davies came to America from Great Britain and lived the life of a vagabond. One day, as the result of jumping a train, he lost one of legs. Davies returned to England where he continued to live the life of a tramp and a pedlar. He wrote poetry (presumably he did right along) and, eventually, he determined to print his own book and did so with the little money he earned panhandling. A copy of this first work, A Soul's Destroyer, came into the hands of George Bernard Shaw; which, in turn, led to the popularization of the poet.

http://www.blupete.com/Literature/Poetry/Leisure.htm