The Golden Treasury of the best songs and lyrical poems in the English Language |
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The Golden Treasury | ||
69
LXV
OLD JANE
I love old women best, I think:
She knows a friend in me,—
Old Jane, who totters on the brink
Of God's Eternity;
Whose limbs are stiff, whose cheek is lean,
Whose eyes look up, afraid;
Though you may gather she has been
A little laughing maid.
She knows a friend in me,—
Old Jane, who totters on the brink
Of God's Eternity;
Whose limbs are stiff, whose cheek is lean,
Whose eyes look up, afraid;
Though you may gather she has been
A little laughing maid.
Once had she with her doll what times,
And with her skipping-rope!
Her head was full of lovers' rhymes,
Once, and her heart of hope;
Who, now, with eyes as sad as sweet,—
I love to look on her,—
At corner of the gusty street,
Asks, ‘Buy a pencil, Sir?’
And with her skipping-rope!
Her head was full of lovers' rhymes,
Once, and her heart of hope;
Who, now, with eyes as sad as sweet,—
I love to look on her,—
At corner of the gusty street,
Asks, ‘Buy a pencil, Sir?’
Her smile is as the litten West,
Nigh-while the sun is gone;
She is more fain to be at rest
Than here to linger on:
Beneath her lids the pictures flit
Of memories far-away:
Her look has not a hint in it
Of what she sees to-day.
Nigh-while the sun is gone;
She is more fain to be at rest
Than here to linger on:
Beneath her lids the pictures flit
Of memories far-away:
Her look has not a hint in it
Of what she sees to-day.
T. Ashe
The Golden Treasury | ||