Ere that I say farewell to youth, and take The homely road that leads to life`s decline, Let me be sure again I shall not pine To taste the bliss you bid me to forsake: That Spring`s returning raptures will not wake Too late repentance for abjuring mine, Nor the old sweets I pledge me to resign Behind them leave the bitterness of ache. Yet is there nothing of one`s generous prime To bear me kindred company to the end, Some passionate longing, some belief sublime, Some wrong to right, some failure to befriend? Leave me but these, I care not where I wend, But down life`s slope go hand—in—hand with Time.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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