<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355280" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Written On The Day Of My Aunt's Funeral</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou too art dead, ---! very kind<br>Hast thou been to me in my childish days,<br>Thou best good creature. I have not forgot<br>How thou didst love thy Charles, when he was yet<br>A prating school-boy: I have not forgot<br>The busy joy on that important day,<br>When, child-like, the poor wanderer was content<br>To leave the bosom of parental love,<br>His childhood's play-place, and his early home,<br>For the rude fosterings of a stranger's hand,<br>Hard uncouth tasks, and school-boy's scanty fare.<br>How did thine eye peruse him round and round,<br>And hardly know him in his yellow coats[1],<br>Red leathern belt, and gown of russet blue!<br>Farewell, good aunt!<br>Go thou, and occupy the same grave-bed<br>Where the dead mother lies.<br>Oh my dear mother, oh thou dear dead saint!<br>Where's now that placid face, where oft hath sat<br>A mother's smile, to think her son should thrive<br>In this bad world, when she was dead and gone;<br>And where a tear hath sat (take shame, O son!)<br>When that same child has prov'd himself unkind.<br>One parent yet is left-a wretched thing,<br>A sad survivor of his buried wife,<br>A palsy-smitten, childish, old, old man,<br>A semblance most forlorn of what he was,<br>A merry cheerful man. A merrier man,<br>A man more apt to frame matter for mirth,<br>Mad jokes, and anticks for a Christmas eve;<br>Making life social, and the laggard time<br>To move on nimbly, never yet did cheer<br>The little circle of domestic friends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">February 1797</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Lamb">Charles Lamb</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355280" data-title="Written On The Day Of My Aunt's Funeral de Charles Lamb" data-description="Thou too art dead, ---! very kind Hast thou been to me in my childish days, Thou best good creature. I have not forgot How thou didst love thy Charles, when he was yet A prating school-boy: I have not forgot The busy joy on that important day, Whe..."></div> </div> </div>

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