INDOLENCE.

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.