 | Poems and Lancashire Songs |  |
134
THINGS GONE BY.
I
Twas evening; sad November's galeWas moaning wild and cold;
Night's deep'ning shade had dimm'd the vale,
And hid the distant wold;
In dreamy mood, as all grew still
Beneath the waning sky,
I sat beside my window-sill,
And thought of things gone by.
II
An old and lonely man was there,By labour sorely worn;
135
And sorrow made him lorn;
His wrinkled cheek long time had play'd
With wind, and rain, and sun;
That weary man, he sigh'd, and said—
“It's dark—and nothing done.”
III
On life, and death, and mortal fret,I musing then began;
And on the dangers that beset
The pilgrimage of man:
I thought of days for ever flown,
And hopes for ever fled;
I sigh'd for friends asunder thrown,
Or sleeping with the dead.
IV
Since life's first wand'ring step beganThey've strewn the fatal way,
136
Has reach'd the close of day;
Like leaflets, drifted to and fro,
When autumn's cold winds rave,
Some fluttering wild, some trampled low,
Some mould'ring in the grave.
V
The days are gone when, light and free,I roved the mountains wild;
The light no more will shine for me
On morning's hour that smiled:
No sun or rain can e'er again
Revive youth's faded flowers;
No sad regret, nor sigh of pain,
Recall the fleeted hours.
| Poems and Lancashire Songs | |