Portrait of an Old Lady with a Rocking-Chair
From sun to star she sits and rocks,
Dispensing news while darning socks;
Around her like a lighted candle
Flit spinster moths who whisper scandal.
Through wars and peace, through flood and drout,
She rocks the seasons in and out.
Queens never held their thrones so fair,
As she, her rhythmic rocking-chair.
Ere motor-cars had hummed their way
Up village streets, once hills of hay,
She rocked. And even now she rocks,
Still unperturbed by time and clocks!
Dispensing news while darning socks;
Around her like a lighted candle
Flit spinster moths who whisper scandal.
Through wars and peace, through flood and drout,
She rocks the seasons in and out.
Queens never held their thrones so fair,
As she, her rhythmic rocking-chair.
Ere motor-cars had hummed their way
Up village streets, once hills of hay,
She rocked. And even now she rocks,
Still unperturbed by time and clocks!
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