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Poem by Robert William Service


Growing Old


Somehow the skies don't seem so blue
As they used to be;
Blossoms have a fainter hue,
Grass less green I see.
There's no twinkle in a star,
Dawns don't seem so gold...
Yet, of course, I know they are:
Guess I'm growing old.

Somehow sunshine seems less bright,
Birds less gladly sing;
Moons don't thrill me with delight,
There's no kick in Spring.
Hills are steeper now and I'm
Sensitive to cold;
Lines are not so keen to rhyme...
Gosh! I'm growing old.

Yet in spite of failing things
I've no cause to grieve;
Age with all its ailing brings
Blessings, I believe:
Kindo' gentles up the mind
As the hope we hold
That with loving we will find
Friendliness in human kind,
Grace in growing old.



Robert William Service


Robert William Service's other poems:
  1. Pullman Porter
  2. Trees against the Sky
  3. The Three Voices
  4. Mammy
  5. Young Mother


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Matthew Arnold Growing Old ("What is it to grow old?")
  • Walter Learned Growing Old ("Sweet sixteen is shy and cold")

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