Poems (Duer)/Wasted Time

by Alice Duer

WASTED TIME.

   Now, some people there be
   Who would argue with me
On the pleasure of working for working's sake,
   Of the joys that you find
   When you force your mind
New mountains to climb and new pathways to take.

   Now they learn how to cook
   From a cookery book;
They nurse the poor sick, or go visiting crime:
   Seven fads in a day
   Are not too much, for they
Would do anything rather than waste their time.

   There are classes, indeed,
   Fit for anyone's need:
To play cards, the piano, or, sometimes, the deuce!
   To make Browning seem plain,
   To paint castles in Spain—
But if you ve no talent, why, what is the use?

   And a few collect things,
   Such as butterflies wings,
And I collect words into versatile rhyme;
   Yet I think, on the whole,
   For the good of my soul,
I should rather do nothing than waste my time.

C. D.