In consistency she calls, seemingly unnoticed
To whosoever will harken
A voice heard only by the attentive
Heeded only by the desirous
Of change and improvement
This call, the indolent hears
Yet adamant remains
In dread of feat and accomplishment
“Awake O sleepy, rouse thyself
Thy hands get engaged in venture worthwhile
Long before the dawning of light
For much lies ahead to realize
Let thy feet on their soles be set
That the might in thee be made to stand
A step and a next, thee do take
Though drowsy and feeble they seemingly are
Soon strength to thy arms shall come
As such shall though a thing do
A next in its trail shall come
Until a chain thou have formed
Of attainments worth thy pride
Alas for thee! O bone-idle fellow
Know thee not that I wait not for thee
For I to my venture am set
To tell all who to my voice will harken
Forth I go, never to be back
Until the day to a close is drawn
Three-sixty, the degree of the earth
Sixty steps in rotation I make
In sixty times an hour is gone
In twelve hours, the twilight draws
Twelve again, the curtains are drawn
Setting the stage for another course
If only thou be privileged to witness
Would thou there in indolence lie
Feebler and feebler only to become
In wishful imaginations – a world of no realities.
Before thy eyes, the present departs
Soon the future leaves thee behind
Thy dreams then, nightmares would become
For thy hands are too feeble to work them reality
Choices for thee, for chances would plead
As rights, for privileges would be traded
