Finis

Marjorie Pickthall

Give me a few more hours to pass 
With the mellow flower of the elm-bough falling, 
And then no more than the lonely grass 
And the birds calling. 

Give me a few more days to keep 
With a little love and a little sorrow, 
And then the dawn in the skies of sleep 
And a clear to-morrow. 

Give me a few more years to fill 
With a little work and a little lending, 
And then the night on a starry hill 
And the road’s ending.