Leisure, thou goddess of a bygone age,

When hours were long and days sufficed to hold

Wide-eyed delights and pleasures uncontrolled

By shortening moments, when no gaunt presage

Of undone duties, modern heritage,

Haunted our happy minds; must thou withhold

Thy presence from this over-busy world,

And bearing silence with thee disengage

Our twined fortunes? Deeps of unhewn woods

Alone can cherish thee, alone possess

Thy quiet, teeming vigor. This our crime:

Not to have worshipped, marred by alien moods

That sole condition of all loveliness,

The dreaming lapse of slow, unmeasured time.