In Cornwall and Across the Sea With Poems Written in Devonshire. By Douglas B. W. Sladen |
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 | In Cornwall and Across the Sea |  |
156
THE SIGH OF THE SHOUTER.
Give me the wealth I have squandered in “shouting,”
Scattered in sixpences, paid by the pound,
Ladled out glibly—no grudging or doubting,
Never a thought of the use to be found?
Scattered in sixpences, paid by the pound,
Ladled out glibly—no grudging or doubting,
Never a thought of the use to be found?
Where are the hours that I wasted so gaily,
Drinking and laughing in front of the bar—
Hours that I spent in mere indolence daily
Heedless of how it my future might mar?
Drinking and laughing in front of the bar—
Hours that I spent in mere indolence daily
Heedless of how it my future might mar?
Gone, as the sun of the summer has vanished;
Woe with the winter is hurrying in,
Woe for the waste that can never be banished,
Gone is the glitter, but stayeth the sin.
Woe with the winter is hurrying in,
Woe for the waste that can never be banished,
Gone is the glitter, but stayeth the sin.
| In Cornwall and Across the Sea | |