The Poetry Corner

Indolence. [1]

By James Barron Hope

I turn aside; and, in the pause, might start As Mem'ry's elbow leans upon Time's Chart, Which shows, alas! how soon all men must glide Over meridians on life's ocean tide - Meridians showing how both youth and sage Are sailing northward to the zone of age: On to an atmosphere of gloom I wist, Where mariners are lost in melancholy mist. But gayer thoughts, like spring-tide swallows, dart Through youth's brave mind and animate its heart. But Indolence is seen a pallid Ruth - A timid gleaner in the fields of youth - A wretched gath'rer of the scattered grain Left by the reapers who have swept the plain; But with no Boaz standing by the while, To watch its figure with approving smile.