What is an hour if we have a day
To spend and waste in whatever we please?
Why not devote it to such mindless play
As we can best devise, or our hearts' ease?
Why should we hoard the sixty minutes lent
By ever-turning, ever-winding clocks
When far more joy derives if they are spent?
Why should we fear the wiser elders's mocks
Simply for using what is given us,
Or shrink from our enjoyment with red faces?
That they did as we do is obvious
No matter if the depth of time erases
The signs of their indulgence? Let us live
Luxuriating in what time can give.
No comments:
Post a Comment