If ecstacy could languid be
In leisured measured pace,
As in a roll ‘neath lazy waves
Or torpid liquid space.

If lack of frenzy hindered not
A fervent, vivid joy,
Or hampered passions reaching high
In somnolent deploy.

Perhaps such glee see manatees
Through languid, liquid eyes
The world as vast and slower bliss
Than quicker sights apprise.

And if indulgent wisdom comes
Through pacing down our lives,
Perhaps in rest are lessons taught
Our frenzied lives deprive.