Idleness

He slept under the moon He basked under the sun He lived a life of going to-do And died with nothing done The spring well and root of all vice The canker of the mind An appendix to nobility The only refuge of weak minds Discontinued labour is dangerous They labour to kill time And labour dire it is, and weary wore The worst of all unrealities, an idle man Man, the only being that can properly be called idle But woe to the shepherd that left the flock Go to the ant, thou sluggard Consider her way and be wise To do nothing makes one nothing For an idle brain is the devil’s workshop Life is full of care We have no time to stand and stare To do something- man’s inherit power Absence of occupation is not rest A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed Why is man idle who can do something better I am happiest when I am idle though For it is well to lie fallow for a while The lazy man gets round the sun As quickly as the busy one Eschew the idle life Flee, flee from doing nought For never was there idle brain But breeds an idle thought