The Lapse

This poem must be done to-day;     Then, I 'll e'en to it.     I must not dream my time away,--     I 'm sure to rue it.     The day is rather bright, I know     The Muse will pardon     My half-defection, if I go     Into the garden.     It must be better working there,--     I 'm sure it's sweeter:     And something in the balmy air     May clear my metre. [In the Garden.]     Ah this is noble, what a sky!     What breezes blowing!     The very clouds, I know not why,     Call one to rowing.     The stream will be a paradise     To-day, I 'll warrant.     I know the tide that's on the rise     Will seem a torrent;     I know just how the leafy boughs     Are all a-quiver;     I know how many skiffs and scows     Are on the river.     I think I 'll just go out awhile     Before I write it;     When Nature shows us such a smile,     We should n't slight it.     For Nature always makes desire     By giving pleasure;     And so 't will help me put more fire     Into my measure.     [On the River.]     The river's fine, I 'm glad I came,     That poem 's teasing;     But health is better far than fame,     Though cheques are pleasing.     I don't know what I did it for,--     This air 's a poppy.     I 'm sorry for my editor,--     He 'll get no copy!