Not so long ago I fell in love.
She was a young and gay girlish thing,
But I am old and my face is wrinkled
And my eyes have ceased to sing.
Yet she even looked my way this once,
But then she turned aside her stare.
After all, what she saw was an old man,
With his swarthy skin and faded hair.
The other man who was in love with her,
Being many years younger and more sublime,
Could do tricks upon a pedestal
That I couldn’t begin to climb.
He used his youth as something
To offer that I could never give,
For though I have saved some money,
How many years have I to live?
Ah, what slim chance had such as I?
She saw behind me an open grave
Hungrily waiting to eat me up.
All I had to give, I had already gave.
Now I dream the shadows from my past
And sleep, a silent island in life’s stream.
But remember, young man, when you turn old,
That once you laughed at an old man’s dream.
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