Classic Poem

The poet is a lazy man,
Instead of building bridges, roads,
He sits back in his easy chair,
And fashions odes.

The poet is a peaceful man,
Who idly dreams from sun to sun;
And what has he accomplished when
His dreams are spun?

Perhaps a book of slender songs
To sweeten life with lilac rhyme,
That may, when roads and bridges crash,
Still cling to time!