Richard Wilbur - A Late Aubade lyrics

You could be sitting now in a carrel Turning some liver-spotted page, Or rising in an elevator-cage Toward Ladies' Apparel. You could be planting a raucous bed Of salvia, in rubber gloves, Or lunching through a screed of someone's loves With pitying head, Or making some unhappy setter Heel, or listening to a bleak Lecture on Schoenberg's serial technique. Isn't this better? Think of all the time you are not Wasting, and would not care to waste, Such things, thank God, not being to your taste. Think what a lot Of time, by woman's reckoning, You've saved, and so may spend on this, You who had rather lie in bed and kiss Than anything. It's almost noon, you say? If so, Time flies, and I need not rehearse The rosebuds-theme of centuries of verse. If you must go, Wait for a while, then slip downstairs And bring us up some chilled white wine, And some blue cheese, and crackers, and some fine Ruddy-skinned pears.