There was a little fire in the grate; A fistful of red coal, Might warm a soul, But scarce could heat a body that had weight -- Not mine, at any rate. A glum old man was sitting by the fire, With wrinkled brow, Warming himself, somehow; And mumbling low, this melancholy sire, A singular desire. If I were young again, said he, if I Were only young again, I'd laugh at pain! I'd jeer at people groaning, and I'd try To pinch them ere they'd die! The young folk laugh and jump about and play And I am old, And grey, and cold! If I were only young again, and they Were old, and cold, and grey, I'd pull them from the fire, I'd jeer and shout, I'd say, for fun, Get up and run And warm yourself, you lazy, doddering lout! Get up and run about! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWO RED ROSES ACROSS THE MOON by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) TEARS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE THE END OF IT by FRANCIS THOMPSON THE MORAL FABLES: THE WOLF AND THE LAMB by AESOP LOVE AND TIME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE LAST MAN: LIFE A GLASS WINDOW by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |