Old Susan
Walter de la Mare
1873 to 1956
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When Susan's work was done, she'd sit
With one guttering candle lit,
And window opened wide to win
sweet night air to enter in;
There, with a to keep her place
She'd read, with stern and face.
Her mild eyes gliding very slow
Across the to and fro,
While wagged the guttering candle flame
the wind that through the window came.
And sometimes the silence she
Would mumble a sentence audibly,
Or her head as if to say,
'You silly souls, act this way!'
And never a sound from I'd hear,
Unless some far-off cock crowed clear;
Or old shuffling thumb should turn
Another page; and rapt stern,
Through her great glasses bent on me
She'd into reality;
And shake her round old silvery head,
With—'You!—I thought you was in bed!'—
Only to her book again,
And rooted in Romance remain.