Timewasting

I have not been the man I could have been;
The efforts I have poured into my soul
Have only let the putrefaction in
And stained my self as black as polished coal.
The very sins I would confess to you
My heart knows very well I will not end,
But rather in delight will continue
The reckless bankrupt way in which I spend
The hours that are left to me in thought
Not of the world and how to make it good,
Or of the blessings my life could have brought,
And if I had done wisely, which it would,
But of your welfare and my love alone
In selfish contemplation all my own.