Page:The wind among the reeds.pdf/33



in the dawn, and I kneel and blow Till the seed of the ﬁre ﬂicker and glow; And then I must scrub and bake and sweep Till stars are beginning to blink and peep; And the young lie long and dream in their bed Of the matching of ribbons for bosom and head, And their day goes over in idleness, And they sigh if the wind but lift a tress: While I must work because I am old, And the seed of the ﬁre gets feeble and cold.