The Old Couple
Ah, me! We've waited here at the gate
Many and many an even,
When Willie lingered a little late;
And I've thought it seemed like Heaven,
To stand, the work all done, and look
At the yellow and pink o' the sky in the brook.
And John, I know, though he's blind as a stone,
And bent with a life of pain.
He'll miss it sore when he sits alone.
And wish he could see it again—
As though it were Heaven itself. Ah, me!
There's only clouds that the blind can see.
But he'll be apart in one long room.
And I as strange in another;
At the end of the day I'll sit down in the gloom.
And be no man's wife or mother;
And I'll miss his voice and the tap of his stick
Till my throat grows choked and my sight grows thick.
I'll not be dull? There are people enough
In the House? Is that what you say?
Yes, every one there that I do not love.
And only my man away:
Voices and steps coming in and out.
But never the one that I care about.
I'd rather starve in the snow with John !
But that 'ud be wicked, I know ;
Indeed, we might live with our only son.
And never stir out in the snow.
But burden his back with our useless lives.
And palsy the arm that struggles and strives.
Nay, Will has another to think of — my Will.
'Tis time the lad was wed ;
He's waited long, he would wait still,
Till John and I were dead :
But better the Poorhouse, better far.
Than only to live as a fret and a bar.
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