Changed Analysis

1I know not why my soul is rack'd:
2Why I ne'er smile as was my wont:
3I only know that, as a fact,
4I don't.
5I used to roam o'er glen and glade
6Buoyant and blithe as other folk:
7And not unfrequently I made
8A joke.

9A minstrel's fire within me burn'd.
10I'd sing, as one whose heart must break,
11Lay upon lay: I nearly learn'd
12To shake.
13All day I sang; of love, of fame,
14Of fights our fathers fought of yore,
15Until the thing almost became
16A bore.

17I cannot sing the old songs now!
18It is not that I deem then low;
19'Tis that I can't remember how
20They go.
21I could not range the hills till high
22Above me stood the summer moon:
23And as to dancing, I could fly
24As soon.

25The sports, to which with boyish glee
26I sprang erewhile, attract no more;
27Although I am but sixty-three
28Or four.
29Nay, worse than that, I've seem'd of late
30To shrink from happy boyhood -- boys
31Have grown so noisy, and I hate
32A noise.

33They fright me, when the beech is green,
34By swarming up its stem for eggs:
35They drive their horrid hoops between
36My legs: --
37It's idle to repine, I know;
38I'll tell you what I'll do instead:
39I'll drink my arrowroot, and go
40To bed.

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