Po Chu I. At Forty One

*
"A Feast of Lanterns", by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1916],

p. 69

At Forty-one

The waters from the pool are vanishing;

A mellow sunlight steeps the window-panes,

And autumn winds ply many a pleasant fan.

O gold and green, half-ripe, the acacias glow,

While o'er the threshold of his summer falls

The shadow of a solitary man.