I'm bent and gray
And I've lost the way!
All my tomorrows were yesterday!
I traded them off for a wanton's pay.
I bartered my graces for silks and laces
My heart I sold for a pot of gold—
Now I'm old.
Why did you do it, Sister,
Why did you sell your soul?
I was foolish and fair and my form was rare!
I longed for life's baubles and did not care!
When we know not the price to be paid, we dare.
I listened when Vanity lied to me
And I ate the fruit of The Bitter Tree—
Now I'm old.
Why are you lonely, Sister?
Where have your friends all gone?
Friends I have none, for I went the road
Where women must harvest what men have sowed
And they never come back when the field is mowed.
They gave the lee of the cup to me
But I was blind and would not see—
Now I'm old.
Where are your lovers, Sister,
Where are your lovers now?
My lovers were many but all have run
I betrayed and deceived them every one
And they lived to learn what I had done.
A poisoned draught from my lips they quaffed
And I who knew it was poisoned, laughed—
Now I'm old.
Will they not help you, Sister,
In the name of your common sin?
There is no debt, for my lovers bought.
They paid my price for the things I brought.
I made the terms so they owe me naught.
I have no hold for 't was I who sold.
One offered his heart, but mine was cold—
Now I'm old.
Where is that lover, Sister?
He will come when he knows your need.