Old man, I saw thee in thy garden chair <br />Sitting in silence 'mid the shrubs and trees <br />Of thy small cottage-croft, whilst murmuring bees <br />Went by, and almost touched thy temples bare, <br />Edged with a few flakes of the whitest hair. <br />And, soothed by the faint hum of ebbing seas, <br />And song of birds, and breath of the young breeze, <br />Thus didst thou sit, feeling the summer air <br />Blow gently;--with a sad still decadence, <br />Sinking to earth in hope, but all alone. <br />Oh! hast thou wept to feel the lonely sense <br />Of earthly loss, musing on voices gone! <br />Hush the vain murmur, that, without offence, <br />Thy head may rest in peace beneath the churchyard stone.<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/picture-of-an-old-man/
