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Poem by Francis William Bourdillon


Old and Young


LONG ago, on a bright spring day,
I passed a little child at play;
And as I passed, in childish glee
She called to me, Come and play with me!

But my eyes were fixed on a far-off height
I was fain to climb before the night;
So, half-impatient, I answered, Nay!
I am too old, too old to play.

Long, long after, in Autumn time
My limbs were grown too old to climb
I passed a child on a pleasant lea,
And I called to her, Come and play with me!

But her eyes were fixed on a fairy-book;
And scarce she lifted a wondering look,
As with childish scorn she answered, Nay!
I am too old, too old to play!



Francis William Bourdillon


Francis William Bourdillon's other poems:
  1. Drought
  2. The Acorn
  3. On the South Downs
  4. Sonnet (Oft had I felt, like pure Endymion)
  5. Christmas Roses


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