The heads of strong old age are beautiful Beyond all grace of youth. They have strange quiet, Integrity, health, soundness, to the full They`ve dealt with life and been tempered by it. A young man must not sleep; his years are war, Civil and foreign but the former`s worse; But the old can breathe in safety now that they are Forgetting what youth meant, the being perverse, Running the fool`s gauntlet and being cut By the whips of the five senses. As for me, If I should wish to live long it were but To trade those fevers for tranquillity, Thinking though that`s entire and sweet in the grave How shall the dead taste the deep treasure they have?SourceThe script ran 0.004 seconds.
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