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- I heard the old, old men say,
- 'Everything alters,
- And one by one we drop away.'
- They had hands like claws, and their knees
- Were twisted like the old thorn-trees
- By the waters.
- I heard the old, old men say,
- 'All that's beautiful drifts away
- Like the waters.'
- W. B. YEATS, The Old Men Admiring Themselves In The Water
Years place at last a venerable crown upon a head.
That is the worst moment, when you feel you have lost
The desires for all that was most dersirable,
Before you are contented with what you can desire;
Before you know what is left to be desired;
And you go on wishing that you could desire
What desire has left behind. But you cannot understand.
How could you understand what it is to feel old?
- The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
- Is left this vault to brag of.
One by one they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.
Some die young; some are born old.
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