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 is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

by William Henry Davies

Other poems of DAVIES (49)

Comments (2)

Very Excellent work! This is another act of fashioning a Faberge from a hard boiled egg . It's like watching someone carve a chain out of a piece of wood. Or a symphony arising from a solo guitar.
This poem is so awesome. Such a powerful sense to it and yet so simple. I love it im going to read more of your wonderful work your go me hooked. well done!