Ould Snarly Gob

THERE was a little fire in the grate
     A fistful of red coal
     Might warm a soul,
But scarce could heat a body that had weight—
     Not mine, at any rate.

A glum old man was sitting by the fire,
     With wrinkled brow,
     Warming himself somehow,
And mumbling low, this melancholy sire,
     A singular desire.

If I were young again, said he, if I
     Were only young again,
     I'd laugh at pain :
I'd jeer at people groaning, and I'd try
     To pinch them ere they'd die.

The young folk laugh and jump about and play,
     And I am old,
     And grey, and cold ;
If I were only young again, and they
     Were old, and cold, and grey,

I'd pull them from the fire, I'd jeer and shout.
     I'd say for fun,
     Get up and run
And warm yourself, you lazy, doddering lout,
     Get up and run about.

Insurrections [1909]