The speaker looks back on a younger self who was physically whole and free of real burdens, yet unable to feel simple gladness. His own happiness never measured up to some vast, imagined ideal, so he turned weakness into a boast, chased pity, and earned it at a painful price. Now, older and more fragile, he finds a purpose that cries out for the very youth and strength he once dismissed. He denies his age and weariness outright, refusing to accept that he might be unworthy of the reward given to one who sacrifices his life for something that can neither ask for it nor mourn the loss. The mood moves from honest, self-lacerating regret toward a fierce, almost defiant hope—a man staring down his own limits, unwilling to be counted out.
There Was a Time — Summary
THERE was a time when this poor frame was whole And I had youth and never another care, Or none that should have troubled a strong soul. Yet, except sometimes in a frosty air When my heels hammered out a melody From pavements of a city left behind, I never would acknowledge my own glee Because it was less mighty than my mind Had dreamed of. Since I could not boast of strength Great as I wished, weakness was all my boast. I sought yet hated pity till at length I earned it. Oh, too heavy was the cost. But now that there is something I could use My youth and strength for, I deny the age, The care and weakness that I know--refuse To admit I am unworthy of the wage Paid to a man who gives up eyes and breath For what can neither ask nor heed his death.