A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
The last few weeks have been very busy here at Coles and although we’re all working flat-out, the interesting, and encouraging, thought is that books are places we go to for some calm and comfort when all about is a bit uncertain: the cost of a book is a small price to pay for the reward to be gained from reading its pages. There are two poems, both favourites of ours,which perfectly capture this particular moment in time – the busyness of life and the importance of perspective and calm.
If by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirsand blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowancefor their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being liedabout, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t looktoo good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts youraim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat thosetwo impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knavesto make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop andbuild ’em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on oneturn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word aboutyour loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turnlong after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says tothem: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk withKings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men countwith you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixtyseconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—whichis more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
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Leisure by W.H. Davies
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 if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
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