Coerced by Furies who persuaded me That life was imminent with idleness, Their jibes made mad, their lashes aided me To grasp the accident of bitterness. Come storm! I cried, come passion and despair, For calm inhibits growth!—I called on fire To sear my comfortable days, and wear The nights to wastes of torment and desire. Then pausing breathless, in a little wood I met with Wisdom laughing in the sun; She said, "Lie still, for idleness is good, And grow in peace as I myself have done." |