A SONG OF REST.

I have sung the song of striving,

Of the struggling, of arriving,

Of making of one's self a horse and mounting him and driving!

But now, let's cease;

Let's look for peace.

Let's forget the mark of money,

Let's forget the love of fame.

Life is ours and skies are sunny;

What is worry but a name?

Let's sit down and whiff and whittle,

Let us loaf and laugh a little.

( Here the youngest spoiled the rime

By running to me for a dime. )

I have sung the joy of doing,

Of the pleasure of pursuing,

And how life is like a woman and our role and rule is wooing,

But now, O let

Us cease to fret!

Let us cease our vain desiring;

Water's better than Cliquot;

What is honor but perspiring?

Wealth's another name for woe.

Let us spread out in the clover,

Just too lazy to turn over,—

( Here my wife brought in the news:

All the children need new shoes. )

I have sung the song of action,

Of the sweet of satisfaction

Of pounding, pounding, pounding opposition to a fraction,

But now, let's quit;

Let's rest a bit.

Money only makes us greedy,

Life's success is but a taunt.

He alone is never needy

Who has learned to laugh at want.

Let us loaf and laugh and wallow;

Too much work to even swallow —

( Here's the mail and bills are curses;

I must try to sell these verses. )