I DOE bemoan my youthful sinne And the steep road I hurried bye Until I met old Age therin That hid youth's going from myne eye. Nought of his footsteps I descrye Nor palfrey's hoof-prints. How went he? As sudden as a bird doth flye, And left me nought but beggarye. He is fled awaye and I am left Who little knowe nor understand, Less ripe than rotten, all bereft Of mirth and money, house and land. I bear upon me the harsh brand Of mine own kind who from the fold Doe drive me with unkindlye hand Because I have but little gold. Ah! Godde, hadde I in my wild youth But studied well and walked arighte, I mighte have hadde an house in sooth And lain between warm sheets o' nighte. But, naye! from school I took my flighte As anye naughtye ladde will doe. Nowe when these woeful words I write My heart comes nigh to break in two. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH AND CUPID; AN ALLEGORY by JOHN GODFREY SAXE A COAT by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS MIRACLES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE QUEEN IN FRANCE; AN ANCIENT SCOTTISH BALLAD by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN SKY WRITING by MARY FINETTE BARBER THE SHEPHERD'S CONTENT by RICHARD BARNFIELD |