Explore "The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner" by W.B. Yeats on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I had a chair at every hearth, / When no one turned to see, / With "Look at that old fellow there, / And who may he be?"
And therefore do I wander now, / And the fret lies on me.
The road-side trees keep murmuring / Ah, wherefore murmur ye, / As in the old days long gone by, / Green oak and poplar tree?
The well-known faces are all gone / And the fret lies on me.