Song Of Going

written by


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I would not like to live to be very old,
  To be stripped cold and bare
Of all my leafage that was green and gold
  In the delicious air.

I would not choose to live to be left alone,
  The children gone away,
And the true love that I have leant upon
  No more my staff and stay.

I would not live to stretch my shrivelled hands
  To an old fire died low,
Minding me of the long-lost happy lands
  And children long ago.

Let me be gone while I am leafy yet
  And while my birds still sing,
Lest leafless, birdless, my dull heart forget
  That ever it had Spring.

© Katharine Tynan