Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - On the Shortness of Time lyrics

If I could live without the thought of d**h, Forgetful of Time's waste, the soul's decay, I would not ask for other joy than breath, With light and sound of birds and the sun's ray. I could sit on untroubled day by day Watching the gra** grow, and the wild flowers range From blue to yellow and from red to grey In natural sequence as the seasons change. I could afford to wait, but for the hurt Of this dull tick of time which chides my ear. But now I dare not sit with loins ungirt And staff unlifted, for d**h stands too near. I must be up and doing--ay, each minute. The grave gives time for rest when we are in it.