 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
EVENING PASTIMES.
Sitting by my fire alone,
When the winds are rough and cold,
And I feel myself grow old
Thinking of the summers flown,
When the winds are rough and cold,
And I feel myself grow old
Thinking of the summers flown,
I have many a harmless art
To beguile the tedious time:
Sometimes reading some old rhyme
I already know by heart;
To beguile the tedious time:
Sometimes reading some old rhyme
I already know by heart;
Sometimes singing over words
Which in youth's dear day gone by
Sounded sweet, so sweet that I
Had no praises for the birds.
Which in youth's dear day gone by
Sounded sweet, so sweet that I
Had no praises for the birds.
Then, from off its secret shelf
I from dust and moth remove
The old garment of my love,
In the which I wrap myself.
I from dust and moth remove
The old garment of my love,
In the which I wrap myself.
And a little while am vain;
But its rose hue will not bear
The sad light of faded hair;
So I fold it up again,
But its rose hue will not bear
The sad light of faded hair;
So I fold it up again,
More in patience than regret
Not a leaf the forest through
But is sung and whispered to.
I shall wear that garment yet.
Not a leaf the forest through
But is sung and whispered to.
I shall wear that garment yet.
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |