1 I know not why my soul is rack'd: <br />2 Why I ne'er smile as was my wont: <br />3 I only know that, as a fact, <br />4 I don't. <br />5 I used to roam o'er glen and glade <br />6 Buoyant and blithe as other folk: <br />7 And not unfrequently I made <br />8 A joke. <br /> <br />9 A minstrel's fire within me burn'd. <br />10 I'd sing, as one whose heart must break, <br />11 Lay upon lay: I nearly learn'd <br />12 To shake. <br />13 All day I sang; of love, of fame, <br />14 Of fights our fathers fought of yore, <br />15 Until the thing almost became <br />16 A bore. <br /> <br />17 I cannot sing the old songs now! <br />18 It is not that I deem then low; <br />19 'Tis that I can't remember how <br />20 They go. <br />21 I could not range the hills till high <br />22 Above me stood the summer moon: <br />23 And as to dancing, I could fly <br />24 As soon. <br /> <br />25 The sports, to which with boyish glee <br />26 I sprang erewhile, attract no more; <br />27 Although I am but sixty-three <br />28 Or four. <br />29 Nay, worse than that, I've seem'd of late <br />30 To shrink from happy boyhood -- boys <br />31 Have grown so noisy, and I hate <br />32 A noise. <br /> <br />33 They fright me, when the beech is green, <br />34 By swarming up its stem for eggs: <br />35 They drive their horrid hoops between <br />36 My legs: -- <br />37 It's idle to repine, I know; <br />38 I'll tell you what I'll do instead: <br />39 I'll drink my arrowroot, and go <br />40 To bed.<br /><br />Charles Stuart Calverley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/changed-2/
