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Poem by William Cowper


To Mary


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

Thy spirits have a fainter flow,
I see thee daily weaker grow;Ч
'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 playedst 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 uttered 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 pressed, 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 pressed 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! 



William Cowper


William Cowper's other poems:
  1. To The Rev. Mr. Newton
  2. The Dog and the Water Lily
  3. The New Convert
  4. Abuse of the Gospel
  5. A Figurative Description of the Procedure of Divine Love


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • William Wordsworth To Mary ("Let other bards of angels sing")
  • Percy Shelley To Mary ("How, my dear Mary, -- are you critic-bitten")
  • John Clare To Mary ("I sleep with thee, and wake with thee")
  • Robert Anderson To Mary ("Exil'd frae thee, and ilka mead")
  • William Thackeray To Mary ("I seem, in the midst of the crowd")
  • Charles Wolfe To Mary ("If I had thought thou couldst have died")

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