You say I'm "getting used" to you, That where I once enthused to you, Regarding all your loveliness enchanted, I now accept it prosily And cease to paint it rosily, In brief, you say I'm taking you for granted! Your charges made so tearfully Are here admitted cheerfully. No shame or guilt my snowy brow is wreathing. For you've become a part of me, The very soul and heart of me. I'm used to you—as I am used to breathing. I'm used to you, as, steadily, I'm used to counting readily Upon my heart to keep my pulses going; I'm used to you—as flowers to The sunshine and the showers too; Or trees are used to sap that keeps them growing. I'm used to you—each way of you, The moods both sad and gay of you. I'm used to you—to everything about you; I'm used to you; that's shown to be A fact. Yes, I have grown to be So used to you I couldn't live without you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAWN BEHIND NIGHT by ISAAC ROSENBERG TAM O' SHANTER by ROBERT BURNS LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI by JOHN KEATS THE BARREL-ORGAN by ALFRED NOYES HER FIRST-BORN by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN by WALT WHITMAN ITALIAN MUSIC IN DAKOTA (THE SEVENTEENTH - THE FINEST REGIMENTAL BAND) by WALT WHITMAN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: SONNET 24. BALCOMBE FOREST by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |