I'M young, and it is early to leave the world behind, But my eyes are waxing dim, and I feel I shall be blind; Last summer I could count you laburnum's golden show'r, But now I scarce can see there is a tree in flow'r. I must put aside my wheel, my work unfinish'd lies, Except the plaited straws which I plait without my eyes; I sit and feel them passing through my fingers all in gloom, Long, long before the twilight has darken'd in the room. When I am blind, my mother, O do not me forsake; I shall need a hand to guide me, a hand that I may take; The world with me went gaily, but now I lag behind The glad, the free, the busy -- for I am going blind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SECOND REVIEW OF THE GRAND ARMY [MAY 24, 1865] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THE ARROW AND THE SONG by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW DICK, A MAGGOT by JONATHAN SWIFT PATTY MORGAN THE MILKMAID'S STORY: 'LOOK AT THE CLOCK!' by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE PICTURE-BOOK by ALICE CARY AH! YET CONSIDER IT AGAIN by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |