Leisure, by W. H. Davies
What is this life if, full of care
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows;
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass;
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night;
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance
And watch her feet, how they can dance;
No time to wait til her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began
A poor life this, if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.