I.

    ENOUGired, my  and I.

    e sit beside tone thus,

    And wis name were carved for us.

    ts more tenderly

    types of the masons knife,

    As  life renehs life

    itired, my  and I.

    II.

    You see ired, my  and I.

    e dealt rusted men,

    And in our own blood drenche pen,

    As if suc fly.

    e oo straigunes end,

    e loved too true to keep a friend ;

    At last ired, my  and I.

    III.

    ired we feel, my  and I !

    e seem of no use in the world ;

    Our fancies hang grey and uncurled

    About mens eyes indifferently ;

    Our voice w

    You sleep; our tears are only  :

    do we  and I ?

    IV.

    So tired, so tired, my  and I !

    It  t old time

    he lime

    to c from the sky.

    `Dear love, youre looking tired, he said;

    I, smiling at him, shook my head :

    tis noired, my  and I.

    V.

    So tired, so tired, my  and I !

    takes me on his arm

    to fold me close and kiss me warm

    till each end in a sigh

    Of happy languor. Now, alone,

    e lean upon tone,

    Unc and I.

    VI.

    tired out we are, my  and I.

    Suppose t diadems

    to tempt us, crusted h loose gems

    Of po it try.

    e scarcely care to look at even

    A pretty child, or Gods blue heaven,

    e feel so tired, my  and I.

    VII.

    Yet w and I ?

    In t eart

    Is little room for t :

    Disdain them by

    And if before the days grew rough

    e once were loved, used, -- well enough,

    I t and I.