LXXXIV: The Seven Days of July: iii

But now that all these festivals are nigh,

with holy days of heritage we keep,

by blowing-up of rockets in the sky,

I find it very easy now to sleep!

And how is that? I wonder, as I fade.

The more there is to do, the less I pace.

To think that rest would come as worlds parade,

when taking but a moment from the race.

Might not my mind be envious of me?

Perhaps it…