She acts routine of ancient lessons taught So well each calls a second like a rhyme, While hazily pedantic, half-distraught, Old age reviews a life in pantomime. Her voice is some abandoned record heard Interminable behind a neighbor's door, Revolving tediously about a word Grooved endless where the music-pattern tore. Sometimes she wanders vague along the wall, Dealing her silent thoughts in solitaire With shifting company the shadows keep, But when she rests alone at evenfall, Weariness bows her figure soft toward prayer, -- A little more and she will fall asleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: SILENCE by THOMAS HOOD TO MY EXCELLENT LUCASIA, ON OUR FRIENDSHIP. 17TH JULY 1651 by KATHERINE PHILIPS STILL FALLS THE RAIN; THE RAIDS, 1940. NIGHT AND DAWN by EDITH SITWELL OUR LEFT' by FRANCIS ORRERY TICKNOR A DAISY FROM THE PARTHENON by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES E.W.T.: ON THE DEATH OF HIS BETTY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TO A PHOTOGRAPHER by BERTON BRALEY THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: THE LAST REMONSTRANCE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |