From the start, the speaker’s logic is blunt and unsentimental: hate requires time she doesn’t have because the grave is always waiting. Hate is a sprawling project life won’t allow. Love seemed equally impossible—until she reconsiders. Any existence needs some “Industry,” and the small, simple work of loving feels large enough for her. The poem’s mood is one of gentle, clear-eyed resignation. Rather than mourning what she can’t do, she finds relief in scaling down her expectations. The dashes and offhand tone make it sound like a quiet epiphany, spoken almost to herself. There’s a tender practicality here: since some kind of “Toil” is inevitable, why not let it be the light, undemanding work of love? It’s a calm decision to fill a short life with small affections rather than grand passions or resentments.
I had no time to Hate — Summary
I had no time to Hate -- Because The Grave would hinder Me -- And Life was not so Ample I Could finish -- Enmity --
Nor had I time to Love -- But since Some Industry must be -- The little Toil of Love -- I thought Be large enough for Me --