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What is this life if, full of care, 
We have no time to stand and stare. 

No time to stand beneath the boughs 
And stare as long as sheep or cows. 

No time to see, when woods we pass, 
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. 

No time to see, in broad daylight, 
Streams full of stars, like skies at night. 

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance, 
And watch her feet, how they can dance. 

No time to wait till her mouth can 
Enrich that smile her eyes began. 

A poor life this is if, full of care, 
We have no time to stand and stare.

Leisure by William Henry Davies
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