Oh bear with me, for I am old And count on fingers five The years this pencil I may hold And hope to be alive; How sadly soon our dreaming ends! How brief the sunset glow! Be kindly to the old, my friends: You`ll miss them when they go. I`ve seen so many disappear That I can scarce forget, For death has made them doubly dear And ripened my regret. How wistfully I`ve wished them back, With cherishing to show The gentleness I used to lack In years of long ago. You, young and fit, will falter too, And when Time`s load you bear, `Twill help if others turn to you With comforting and car; With loving look and tender touch . . . Aye, in their twilight wan Revere the old - for Oh how much You`ll miss them when they`ve gone!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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