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When will the bell ring, and end this weariness? | |
How long have they tugged the leash, and strained apart, | |
My pack of unruly hounds! I cannot start | |
Them again on a quarry of knowledge they hate to hunt, | |
5 | I can haul them and urge them no more. |
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No longer now can I endure the brunt | |
Of the books that lie out on the desks; a full threescore | |
Of several insults of blotted pages, and scrawl | |
Of slovenly work that they have offered me. | |
10 | I am sick, and what on earth is the good of it all? |
What good to them or me, I cannot see! | |
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So, shall I take | |
My last dear fuel of life to heap on my soul | |
And kindle my will to a flame that shall consume | |
15 | Their dross of indifference; and take the toll |
Of their insults in punishment? — I will not! — | |
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I will not waste my soul and my strength for this. | |
What do I care for all that they do amiss! | |
What is the point of this teaching of mine, and of this | |
20 | Learning of theirs? It all goes down the same abyss. |
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What does it matter to me, if they can write | |
A description of a dog, or if they can't? | |
What is the point? To us both, it is all my aunt! | |
And yet I'm supposed to care, with all my might. | |
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25 | I do not, and will not; they won't and they don't; and that's all! |
I shall keep my strength for myself; they can keep theirs as well. | |
Why should we beat our heads against the wall | |
Of each other? I shall sit and wait for the bell. |
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