Poem: When the World Grows Wearisome
Mar. 8th, 2010 11:34 pmWhen the world grows wearisome
And I am old and tired
Take me up to the mountainside
And light me a little fire
And leave me there to contemplate
The world as it has been
And all the bold, bright, beautiful
People I have seen.
When the world grows wearisome
And I have had my fill
Of humankind, and in sound mind
Have written out my will,
Leave me there on the mountainside
As the ocean stretches away,
And let me sit there quietly
Until th’end of day.
When the world grows wearisome,
And I am done with it,
Take me up to the mountainside
And leave me there to sit
And watch the clouds go scudding by
And watch the flowers grow,
And watch the many little lives
Going on below.
When the world grows wearisome,
Do my bidding – do!
That when you are old in turn,
Some kind one will for you –
But till the world grows wearisome,
Come and rove with me
Over the earth from end to end
And cross the shining sea!
And I am old and tired
Take me up to the mountainside
And light me a little fire
And leave me there to contemplate
The world as it has been
And all the bold, bright, beautiful
People I have seen.
When the world grows wearisome
And I have had my fill
Of humankind, and in sound mind
Have written out my will,
Leave me there on the mountainside
As the ocean stretches away,
And let me sit there quietly
Until th’end of day.
When the world grows wearisome,
And I am done with it,
Take me up to the mountainside
And leave me there to sit
And watch the clouds go scudding by
And watch the flowers grow,
And watch the many little lives
Going on below.
When the world grows wearisome,
Do my bidding – do!
That when you are old in turn,
Some kind one will for you –
But till the world grows wearisome,
Come and rove with me
Over the earth from end to end
And cross the shining sea!