I SOMETIMES long to throw my books away
And to forget the thoughts that make me sad--
The mighty musings that have ever clad
The minds of men in chill and sombre grey.
I sometimes long to laugh out and be gay
As some blithe, thoughtless, merry-hearted lad
Or wander in the forest and be glad
Without a memory of a heavier day;
Yet when I try to turn myself apart
From all the deeper mysteries of Life
In nature-love and hate of human strife,
Still the same thoughts throng through my throbbing brain
And I arise in heaviness of heart
And turn me to my studying again.