At Dawn and Dusk


Victor James Daley

OVER a slow-dying fire,
    Dreaming old dreams, I am sitting;
The flames leap up and expire;
    A woman sits opposite knitting.

I’ve taken a Fate to wife;
    She knits with a half-smile mocking
Me, and my dreams, and my life,
    All into a worsted stocking.

At Dawn and Dusk - Contents

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