Oh To Be Idle Loving Idleness! But I Am Idle All In Hate Of Me; Ever In Action'S Dream, In The False Stress Of Purposed Action Never Set To Be. Like A Fierce Beast Self-Penned In A Bait-Lair, My Will To Act Binds With Excess My Action, Not-Acting Coils The Thought With Raged Despair, And Acting Rage Doth Paint Despair Distraction. Like Someone Sinking In A Treacherous Sand, Each Gesture To Deliver Sinks The More; The Struggle Avails Not, And To Raise No Hand, Though But More Slowly Useless, We've No Power. Hence Live I The Dead Life Each Day Doth Bring, Repurposed For Next Day'S Repurposing.