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'Why
looked sad sister dear ? Won't you tell me its cause?
Seen you wool-gathering with eyes downcast often than not
Murmur while left alone, or turn mute in company sans cause
Won't you unfold to me," said the WORD TO WORK "your
heart".
Said then the WORK TO WORD, "Hear me dear pretty
You don't know for certain how ashamed I am of my emptiness
When I see your sprightliness, despite wielding power mighty
Trust, your very sight makes me conscious of my nothingness.
Aren't you loquacious and move about like a nomad ceaseless
And directing in tones resonant set my wheels in motion
Why me alone, you make big and small engage themselves endless
Oh ! your gift of gab ever commands instant commendation".
"Blundered you then out and out my sweetest darling
Your compliment, listen, carries neither weight, nor merit
Sorry, your over-estimation of my part is neatly misleading
And ended in robbing your mind of its poise and wit.
No
dear no, your underestimation alone has undermined the worth
Know you not - 'No word - no work', when life feels dearth of mirth
You are the vehicle of thought and the theory of every practice
By inhabiting me, you make me cheerful always in practice.
Tell me, aren't you donning thought with myriad charms and strength
And endowing purpose its due tenacity; will power, all its strength?
Who then takes credit of clarity to vision and firmness to
conviction
How could thought get over pitfalls, if not armed with right
diction?
Haven't you heard people say, "Work sprouts from the fertile
soil of word
And thought takes off every time, only when fully draped in right
word,
Thought without action, you know ends only in abortion, and action
Then neither breathes, nor serves any purpose sans thy sanction.
I concur not, nor like to see you hereafter in that gloomy mood
To be true, I feel damnably poor, when I see you engaged in any
mood"
Their compliment mutual and confessions sweet soaked in humility
When went on, I slipped into nap benumbed at their life of sublimity
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