Hours of Idleness

A little lake of mine I know,
Where waving weeds and rushes grow,
And in its depths by day and night
The water-monsters swarm and fight.
Ah, how I loved to idle there!
But now I can no longer bear
To pass my days in that sweet spot.
And lost in meditation rot.
A sense of duty gives me pause.
Obedient to my Master's laws;
Our span of life is all too short
To waste its hours in empty sport.