Gone is the bliss of leisurely days
Speed has conquered the festive ways
Gnarled hands with strife and pain
Toiling hard for material gain.
With menand machines identical
World has turned mechanical
Cut-throat contents pulling apace
Pennies and buffons in a right race
Hearts heavy and minds on hunt
Like tractor trolleys turbulent
Sweating struggling for livelihood
Where evil and devil are fairly good.
Beating the bush by blaming time
That does pass as frosty rime
Leisure and freedom down to the dogs
Occupied minds struck by logs.
Scuddling men in a heat of hope
Drawn to gallows by fatal rope
Love,sympathy,fellow-feeling
Mirth and peace are nary a thing
Making life a hell of heaven
You roar of compulsion on a raven
Damn ye compulsion for this hell!
Oh!Thou are ringing a melencholy bell.
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