Slow as Summer’s lazy days,
At rest, the River dozes;
Lulls the fish, in many ways,
To swim in carefree poses.
Me: upon the river’s edge,
An unassuming sinner,
Pole and drowning worm, I pledge
To make these fish my dinner!
‘Neath the shroud of sycamore
Or oak (I have to proffer)
Shaded on the lazy shore
For sleep is all they offer.
Care be gone! This way I live
For if a moment planted,
Let the day get as she give
A prayer, the rest she granted.
Gentle as the River flows
I lost determination .
Hungry only for repose,
I’ve closed my eyes to ration.