Seemed like I couldn't stand it any more, <br /> The factory whistles blowin' day by day, <br />An' men an' children hurryin' by the door, <br /> An' street cars clangin' on their busy way. <br />The faces of the people seemed to be <br /> Washed pale by tears o' grief an' strife an' care, <br />Till everywhere I turned to I could see <br /> The same old gloomy pictures of despair. <br /> <br />The windows of the shops all looked the same, <br /> Decked out with stuff their owners wished to sell; <br />When visitors across our doorway came <br /> I could recite the tales they'd have to tell. <br />All things had lost their old-time power to please; <br /> Dog-tired I was an' irritable, too, <br />An' so I traded chimney tops for trees, <br /> An' shingled roof for open skies of blue. <br /> <br />I dropped my tools an' took my rod an' line <br /> An' tackle box an' left the busy town; <br />I found a favorite restin' spot of mine <br /> Where no one seeks for fortune or renown. <br />I whistled to the birds that flew about, <br /> An' built a lot of castles in my dreams; <br />I washed away the stains of care an' doubt <br /> An' thanked the Lord for woods an' running streams. <br /> <br />I've cooked my meals before an open fire, <br /> I've had the joy of green smoke in my face, <br />I've followed for a time my heart's desire <br /> An' now the path of duty I retrace. <br />I've had my little fishin' trip, an' go <br /> Once more contented to the haunts of men; <br />I'm ready now to hear the whistles blow <br /> An' see the roofs an' chimney tops again.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cure-for-weariness/
