Now

When I was in yon town, and had

Stones all round me, hard and cold,

My flesh was firm, my sight was keen,

And still I felt my heart grow old.

But now, with this green world around,

By my great love for it!  I swear,

Though my flesh shrink, and my sight fail,

My heart will not grow old with care.

When I do hear these joyful birds,

I cannot sit with my heart dumb;

I cannot walk among these flowers,

But I must help the bees to hum.

My heart has echoes for all things,

The wind, the rain, the bird and bee;

‘Tis I that- now- can carry Time,

Who in that town must carry me.

I see not now the great coke fire

With ten men seated there, or more,

Like frogs on logs; and one man fall

Dying across the boarded floor.

I see instead the flowers and clouds,

I hear the rills, the birds and bees:

The Squirrel flies before the storm

He makes himself in leafy trees.