Discontent

To stand upon the river-bank and snare the purple fish,
My net well cast across the stream, was all that I could wish.
Or lie concealed and shoot the geese that scream and pass apace.
And pay my rent and taxes with the profits of the chase.
Then home to peace and happiness, with wife and children gay,
Though clothes be coarse and fare be hard, and earned from day to day.
But now I read and read, scarce knowing what 'tis all about,
And eager to improve my mind
I wear my body out.
I draw a snake and give it legs, to find I've wasted skill,
And my hair grows daily whiter as I hurry towards the hill.
I sit amid the sorrows
I have brought, on my own head,
And find myself estranged from all, among the living dead.
I seek to drown my consciousness in wine, alas! in vain:
Oblivion passes quickly and my griefs' begin again.
Old age comes on and yet withholds the summons to depart
So I'll take another bumper just to ease my aching heart.