Poetry Archives

For the sake of some things
  That be now no more
I will strew rushes
  On my chamber-floor,
I will plant bergamot
  At my kitchen-door.

For the sake of dim things
  That were once so plain
I will set a barrel
  Out to catch the rain,
I will hang an iron pot
  On an iron crane.

Many things be dead and gone
  That were brave and gay;
For the sake of these things
  I will learn to say,
“An it please you, gentle sirs,”
  “Alack!” and “Well-a-day!”