If ever I am old, and all alone,
I shall have killed one grief, at any rate;
For then, thank God, I shall not have to wait
Much longer for the sheaves that I have sown.
The devil only knows what I have done,
But here I am, and here are six or eight
Good friends, who most ingenuously prate
About my songs to such and such a one.
But everything is all askew to-night,-
As if the time were come, or almost come,
For their untenanted mirage of me
To lose itself and crumble out of sight,
Like a tall ship that floats above the foam
A little while, and then breaks utterly.
(Edwin Arlington Robinson)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Time Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Friendship Poems, Grief Poems, Devils PoemsBased on Keywords: crumble, prate, mirage, askew, untenanted, ingenuously