THE OLD MAN AND THE NEWSPAPER
DAYLONG he seems to read, but as he peers
At fading print, the sheet becomes a glass,
Wherein are mirrored ghosts that smile and pass,
And lovely faces, dust these forty years.
DAYLONG he seems to read, but as he peers
At fading print, the sheet becomes a glass,
Wherein are mirrored ghosts that smile and pass,
And lovely faces, dust these forty years.