O Boredom! what have you to do upon
This kingdom? Why do you prolong this slow
Dull drone of flowing lento−whence this yawn
Is come and gone; now come; gone; to and fro?
How come you busy so yourself this much
To make myself unbusy, Tedium?
Why clutch me by this vacuous dumb touch,
And bury me in dense alluvium?
The hours, slow and by they go; but gone
Are past too fast in such vast clustered heaps;
Whereby from sunset down to rosy dawn
My selfsame soul no useful hour keeps.
Yet torpor is a being's duty fare
For his not being altogether there.
Dull drone of flowing lento−whence this yawn
Is come and gone; now come; gone; to and fro?
How come you busy so yourself this much
To make myself unbusy, Tedium?
Why clutch me by this vacuous dumb touch,
And bury me in dense alluvium?
The hours, slow and by they go; but gone
Are past too fast in such vast clustered heaps;
Whereby from sunset down to rosy dawn
My selfsame soul no useful hour keeps.
Yet torpor is a being's duty fare
For his not being altogether there.
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