To my ninth decade I have totter'd on, And no soft arm bends now my steps to steady; She, who once led me where she would, is gone, So when he calls me, Death shall find me ready. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF LEONIDAS by GEORGE CROLY THE VILLAIN by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES AN HYMN TO THE EVENING by PHILLIS WHEATLEY CHOEPHOROI: INVOCATION OF AGAMEMNON'S GHOST by AESCHYLUS THE FUTURE SPEAKS by LOUIS KAUFMAN ANSPACHER THE RAKE'S PROGRESS by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: A REMEMBRANCE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |