When I am old, and comforted
And done with this desire
With memory to share my bed
And peace to share my fire

I'll comb my hair in scalloped bands
Beneath my laundered cap
And watch my cool and fragile hands
Lie light upon my lap

And I will have a sprigged gown
With lace to kiss my throat
I'll draw my curtain to the town
And hum a purring note

And I'll forget the way of tears
And rock, and stir my tea
But oh, I wish those blessed years
Were further than they be!