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Leisure

When one is free from drudgery, Liberated from tiresome toil, In that little space of time, Leisure sows its seed in the soil. A minute to relax, Preceded by an hour of travail, A minute to ease up, Followed by an hour of struggle When the mind is free of stress, Time seems too endless to measure, When the hands are free of work, Time seems too precious to treasure. In the words of Aristotle, the master philosopher, "The end of labour is to gain leisure," And I agree, It really is the greatest form of pleasure.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Book: Shattered Sighs