WHEN I WAS STILL A YOUTHFUL WIGHT
[Written at the age of 77.]
WHEN I was still a youthful wight,
So full of enjoyment and merry,
The painters used to assert, in spite,
That my features were small--yes, very;
Yet then full many a beauteous child
With true affection upon me smil'd.
Now as a greybeard I sit here in state,
By street and by lane held in awe, sirs;
And may be seen, like old Frederick the Great,
On pipebowls, on cups, and on saucers.
Yet the beauteous maidens, they keep afar;
Oh vision of youth! Oh golden star!