« 上一页继续 »
1 Am not apt to grieve at anything.
But when I see old age in infancy.
The body wasted, and the mind decayed,
I must perforce be sad, a little sad!—
1 follow up the current of my life,
And trace myself thereto; and when I think
I may be witless in my childishness,
1 cannot help but feel a bitter sorrow.
There was an old man dwelling hereabouts,
P faith, he was a sight to look upon,
He lived hard by us, with a family
Pausing before the portraits on the walls.
The playmates of his boyhood, dead and gone;
He 1mwed to this and that, and muttered o'er
A thousand things connected with their youth.
And told old stories to the wondering folks,
Dull, tedious stories, pointless everywhere.
The sun shone out; he took his hat and staff.
And tottered o'er the bleak and fading fields;
The children followed him, and gathered flower.-:
(A few frail antumn violets were left
Along the sheltered sides of sunny hills;)
They tied a nosegay in his button-hole,
And then he shouted like a little lad.
And chased them down the pathways, but, alas'—
He could not catch the youngest, tiny Bess .
Who tottered as she ran! The night drew near.
And he came home a-coughing bitterly.
Spent and exhausted with a deadly cold!
When prayers were said, he knelt with all the rest,
(A thing he had not done for years before,)
And said, as if by rote, as children do,
The Lord's Prayer and the Creed, and when he went
To bed that night, he kissed the family
And chattered in a sweet simplicity.
Next morn, the ground was knec-dcep in the snow. And he could walk no longer in the fields, And he sat down and wept like any boy, Robbed of a littlo promised holiday! And after that, the old familiar friends He used to know, the babe he used to kiss. The miniature he wore around his neck, (It was his dear dead wife's,) were all forgot: Oblivion wrapt his memory in a shroud, And laid it in his grove. He lingered on Till the New Year, and then he fell asleep! The gossips bore the news about the town. And all came flocking to his burial; I saw him in his coffin, white and calmHis hands enfolded on his aged breast, a Holding a little bunch of winter flowers! He had no relatives to follow him And weep around his grave; but, standing then-. I felt the old relationship of Adam, And turned away to hide my gushing tears, Praying the Lord to keep me through my youth. And if I lived, to watch above my age. And take me to himself in Paradise!