25Say who is this with silvered hair,So pale and worn and thin,Who passeth here, and passeth there,And looketh out and in?That useth not our garb nor tongue,And knoweth things untold:Who teacheth pleasure to the young,And wisdom to the old?No toil he maketh his by day,No home his own by night;But wheresoe’er he take his way,He killeth our delight.Since he is come there’s nothing wiseNor fair in man or child,Unless his deep divining eyesHave looked on it and smiled.Whence came he hither all aloneAmong our folk to spy?There’s nought that we can call our own,Till he shall hap to die.And I would dig his grave full deepBeneath the churchyard yew,Lest thence his wizard eyes might peepTo mark the things we do.
25Say who is this with silvered hair,So pale and worn and thin,Who passeth here, and passeth there,And looketh out and in?That useth not our garb nor tongue,And knoweth things untold:Who teacheth pleasure to the young,And wisdom to the old?No toil he maketh his by day,No home his own by night;But wheresoe’er he take his way,He killeth our delight.Since he is come there’s nothing wiseNor fair in man or child,Unless his deep divining eyesHave looked on it and smiled.Whence came he hither all aloneAmong our folk to spy?There’s nought that we can call our own,Till he shall hap to die.And I would dig his grave full deepBeneath the churchyard yew,Lest thence his wizard eyes might peepTo mark the things we do.
Say who is this with silvered hair,So pale and worn and thin,Who passeth here, and passeth there,And looketh out and in?That useth not our garb nor tongue,And knoweth things untold:Who teacheth pleasure to the young,And wisdom to the old?No toil he maketh his by day,No home his own by night;But wheresoe’er he take his way,He killeth our delight.Since he is come there’s nothing wiseNor fair in man or child,Unless his deep divining eyesHave looked on it and smiled.Whence came he hither all aloneAmong our folk to spy?There’s nought that we can call our own,Till he shall hap to die.And I would dig his grave full deepBeneath the churchyard yew,Lest thence his wizard eyes might peepTo mark the things we do.
Say who is this with silvered hair,So pale and worn and thin,Who passeth here, and passeth there,And looketh out and in?That useth not our garb nor tongue,And knoweth things untold:Who teacheth pleasure to the young,And wisdom to the old?No toil he maketh his by day,No home his own by night;But wheresoe’er he take his way,He killeth our delight.Since he is come there’s nothing wiseNor fair in man or child,Unless his deep divining eyesHave looked on it and smiled.Whence came he hither all aloneAmong our folk to spy?There’s nought that we can call our own,Till he shall hap to die.And I would dig his grave full deepBeneath the churchyard yew,Lest thence his wizard eyes might peepTo mark the things we do.
Say who is this with silvered hair,So pale and worn and thin,Who passeth here, and passeth there,And looketh out and in?
Say who is this with silvered hair,
So pale and worn and thin,
Who passeth here, and passeth there,
And looketh out and in?
That useth not our garb nor tongue,And knoweth things untold:Who teacheth pleasure to the young,And wisdom to the old?
That useth not our garb nor tongue,
And knoweth things untold:
Who teacheth pleasure to the young,
And wisdom to the old?
No toil he maketh his by day,No home his own by night;But wheresoe’er he take his way,He killeth our delight.
No toil he maketh his by day,
No home his own by night;
But wheresoe’er he take his way,
He killeth our delight.
Since he is come there’s nothing wiseNor fair in man or child,Unless his deep divining eyesHave looked on it and smiled.
Since he is come there’s nothing wise
Nor fair in man or child,
Unless his deep divining eyes
Have looked on it and smiled.
Whence came he hither all aloneAmong our folk to spy?There’s nought that we can call our own,Till he shall hap to die.
Whence came he hither all alone
Among our folk to spy?
There’s nought that we can call our own,
Till he shall hap to die.
And I would dig his grave full deepBeneath the churchyard yew,Lest thence his wizard eyes might peepTo mark the things we do.
And I would dig his grave full deep
Beneath the churchyard yew,
Lest thence his wizard eyes might peep
To mark the things we do.