When I was young, when I was young!
Were you ever young, Prytherch, a rich farmer:
Cows in the byre, sheep in the pen. A brown egg under each hen,
The barns oozing corn like honey?
You are old now; time's geometry
Upon your face by which we tell
Your sum of years has with sharp care
Conspired and crossed your brow with grief.
Your heart that is dry as a dead leaf
Undone by frosts's cruel chemistry
Clings in vain to the bare bough
Where once in April a bird sang.
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Comments1Wow this is quite a deep poem. Really got me thinkin bout whether wealth and time can make you lose your youthfulness, and if once you're old you're just forgotten and dried up or somethin. Made me sad how it seems like love and happiness in his youth have just faded away. Can someone help me out though? Is the poet trying to say that wealth caused Prytherch to grow old and lose his joy, or is it just the passsing of time?