Bartimeus Grown Old
Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall 1883 (Gunnersbury, London) – 1922 (Vancouver)
YEA, I am he that dwelt beside this tomb.
I was a child. God smote me from the sun.
A little while, I had forgot to run
Under the rain-sweet roof of almond bloom.
I had forgotten summer, and the flaw
Ruffling the gray sea and the yellowed grain.
Now I am old and I forget again,
But a man came and touched me, and I saw.
Long years he dowered me with imperial day,
Bright-blossomed night and all the stars in trust.
Now I am blind again, and by the way
Wait still to catch his footsteps in the dust.
Surely he comes?–and he will hear my cry,
Though he were stricken and dim and old as I.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 36 sec read
- 71 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABBACXXC DEDEFF |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 584 |
Words | 122 |
Stanzas | 2 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 6 |
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"Bartimeus Grown Old" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 24 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/26405/bartimeus-grown-old>.
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