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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