LXII

"When you are old and grey and full of sleep,"
That's a great line I wish belonged to me,
"Your eyes had once, and of there shadows deep",
Is lovely there as well, if can't you see,
I feel entirely cowed by the great lot,
Of all the wondrous words that predate mine,
Always putting them down quite on the spot,
And nearly always running out of time.
There are so many phrases in my head,
That have been used by better smiths before,
Who forge much better wit, catharsis, dread,
And are set down for glory evermore.
    Though they are wonderful I must complain,
     Of all the poets lodged within my brain.