I HEARD the old, old men say,
“Everything alters,
And one by one we drop away.”
They had hands like claws, and their knees
Were twisted like the old thorn-trees
By the waters.
I heard the old, old men say,
“All that’s beautiful drifts away
Like the waters.”
Last updated on Tue Apr 14 00:10:40 2009 for eBooks@Adelaide.