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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


ODE TO WORK IN SPRINGTIME by THOMAS RUSSELL YBARRA

First Line: OH, WOULD THAT WORKING I MIGHT SHUN
Last Line: IMMORAL!)
Subject(s): FLOWERS; SPRING;

OH, would that working I might shun,
From labour my connection sever,
That I might do a bit -- or none
Whatever!

That I might wander over hills,
Establish friendship with a daisy,
O'er pretty things like daffodils
Go crazy!

That I might at the heavens gaze,
Concern myself with nothing weighty,
Loaf, at a stretch, for seven days --
Or eighty.

Why can't I cease a slave to be,
And taste existence beatific
On some fair island, hid in the
Pacific?

Instead of sitting at a desk
'Mid undone labours, grimly lurking --
Oh, say, what is there picturesque
In working?

But no! -- to loaf were misery! --
I love to work! Hang isles of coral!
(To end this otherwise would be
Immoral!)



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