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All English Sonnets


It had me up to now, to kick around,
Oh! what a weariness is wretched life,
From morning to the evening senseless strife,
Is watching like a wary vicious hound,

And nothing else to do, bit to pass,
Each weary hour, waiting for the next,
Which also is as heavy and crass,
As previous hour, and out of context.

And dreams are also petty when I sleep,
And trudge along the days like the sheep,-
Instructively unthinking. Ah! no-more,
Ah! not a moment more, I shall goad-

It had me up to now, to kick around,
My life along this dusty, hopeless road.


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