Expostulation and Reply
William Wordsworth

"WHY, William, on that old grey stone,
Thus for the length of half a day,
Why, William, sit you thus alone,
And dream your time away?

"Where are your books?--that light bequeathed
To Beings else forlorn and blind!
Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed
From dead men to their kind.

"You look round on your Mother Earth,
As if she for no purpose bore you; 10
As if you were her first-born birth,
And none had lived before you!"

One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,
When life was sweet, I knew not why,
To me my good friend Matthew spake,
And thus I made reply:

"The eye--it cannot choose but see;
We cannot bid the ear be still;
Our bodies feel, where'er they be,
Against or with our will.

"Nor less I deem that there are Powers
Which of themselves our minds impress;
That we can feed this mind of ours
In a wise passiveness.

"Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum
Of things for ever speaking,
That nothing of itself will come,
But we must still be seeking?

"--Then ask not wherefore, here, alone,
Conversing as I may, 30
I sit upon this old grey stone,
And dream my time away,"
1798.

Expostulation and Reply
Frank Thaxter

“Why Frank are you on that old blue bike,
For 30 minutes a day,
Why, Frank, do you break a sweat,
And pedal your time away?

“Where is your car?--that society
has given you
To become plump and weak!
Sit! Sit! and embrace the comfort
From Fords and Chevys on the street.

“You ride round on this planet Earth,
As if it’s your only choice;
As if many will follow,
And have to hear your voice!”

One early morning, on Broad Street
Always a clear blue sky,
My good friend Dave did speak,
And here was my reply:

“The eyes see more,
The ears hear the birds,
And the skin feels the morning air,
We cannot resist or numb ourselves with an ever-constant stare.

“There is no other action
That invigorates the legs and breath;
Feeding this body of ours
With blissful activeness.

“You would think, amid all this fun
From riding to and fro,
That others would themselves realize,
That it is really not that slow.

'"--So ask me not why,

I break a sweat, riding as I may,
I upon this old blue bike,
Pedaling my time away,”

2004