The Great War

from Herb o' Grace, an electronic edition

A Song of Going

I would not like to live to be very old,

To be stripped cold and bare

Of all my leafage that was green and gold

In the delicious air.

I would not choose to live to be left alone,

The children gone away,

And the true love that I have leant upon

No more my staff and stay.

I would not live to stretch my shrivelled hands

To an old fire died low,

Minding me of the long-lost happy lands

And children long ago.

Let me be gone while I am leafy yet

And while my birds still sing,

Lest leafless, birdless, my dull heart forget

That ever it had Spring.