Books > Old Books > The Golden Treasury (1932)


Page 162

BOOK THIRD
162 TO THE SAME

The twentieth year is well-nigh past
Since first our sky was overcast;
Ah, would that this might be the last!
My Mary!

Thy spirits have a fainter flow,
I see thee daily weaker grow
'Twas my distress that brought thee low,
My Mary!

Thy needles, once a shining store,
For my sake restless heretofore,
Now rust disused, and shine no more;
My Mary!

For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil
The same kind office for me still,
Thy sight now seconds not thy will,
My Mary!

But well thou play'dst the housewife's part,
And all thy threads with magic art
Have wound themselves about this heart,
My Mary!

Thy indistinct expressions seem
Like language utter'd in a dream;
Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme,
My Mary!

Thy silver locks, once auburn bright,
Are still more lovely in my sight
Than golden beams of orient light,
My Mary!

For could I view nor them nor thee,
What sight worth seeing could I see?
The sun would rise in vain for me,
My Mary!

Partakers of thy sad decline
Thy hands their little force resign;
Yet, gently press'd, press gently mine,
My Mary!

Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st
That now at every step thou mov'st
Upheld by two; yet still thou lov'st,
My Mary!

And still to love, though press'd with ill,
In wintry age to feel no chill,
With me is to be lovely still,
My Mary!

But ah! by constant heed I know
How oft the sadness that I show
Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe,
My Mary!

And should my future lot be cast
With much resemblance of the past,
Thy worn-out heart will break at last
My Mary!
W. COWPER.

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE The twentieth year is well-nigh past Since first our sky was overcast; Ah, would that this might be what is last! My Mary! Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow 'Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more; My Mary! For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil what is same kind office for me still, Thy sight now seconds not thy will, My Mary! But well thou play'dst what is housewife's part, And all thy threads with magic art Have wound themselves about this heart, My Mary! Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language utter'd in a dream; Yet me they charm, whate'er what is theme, My Mary! Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary! For could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see? what is s where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Golden Treasury (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 162 where is strong BOOK THIRD where is strong 162 TO what is SAME where is p align="justify" The twentieth year is well-nigh past Since first our sky was overcast; Ah, would that this might be what is last! My Mary! Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow 'Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more; My Mary! For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil what is same kind office for me still, Thy sight now seconds not thy will, My Mary! But well thou play'dst what is housewife's part, And all thy threads with magic art Have wound themselves about this heart, My Mary! Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language utter'd in a dream; Yet me they charm, whate'er what is theme, My Mary! Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary! For could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see? what is sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary! Partakers of thy sad decline Thy hands their little force resign; Yet, gently press'd, press gently mine, My Mary! Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st That now at every step thou mov'st Upheld by two; yet still thou lov'st, My Mary! And still to love, though press'd with ill, In wintry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary! But ah! by constant heed I know How oft what is sadness that I show Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe, My Mary! And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of what is past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last My Mary! W. COWPER. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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