Toil



I TOIL, I toil, as toils a jaded horse
Around the ever-changing changeless track
From sunrise on to sunset, till the mill,
That grinds in flour my heart and soul, is still,
And the ropes are loosed, and I may leave my course
And silent, alone with the night, go back
To misery and the cruel sleep whose breasts,
Bitter to suck, give poisoned milk. And this
Is my life! And everything attests
Hell's fleshless hand that holds me pitiless!

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

24 sec read
143

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABCCABDEDF
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 436
Words 82
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 10

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Francis William Lauderdale Adams was an essayist poet dramatist novelist and journalist who produced a large volume of work in his short life more…

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    "Toil" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/14072/toil>.

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