Youth and Age
" TELL me, what's Love? " said Youth, one day,
To drooping Age, who crost his way. —
" It is a sunny hour of play,
" For which repentance dear doth pay;
" Repentance! Repentance!
" And this is Love, as wise men say. "
" Tell me, what 's Love? " said Youth once more,
Fearful, yet fond, of Age's lore. —
" Soft as a passing summer's wind,
" Wouldst know the blight it leaves behind?
" Repentance! Repentance!
" And this is Love — when love is o'er. "
" Tell me, what 's Love? " said Youth again,
To drooping Age, who crost his way. —
" It is a sunny hour of play,
" For which repentance dear doth pay;
" Repentance! Repentance!
" And this is Love, as wise men say. "
" Tell me, what 's Love? " said Youth once more,
Fearful, yet fond, of Age's lore. —
" Soft as a passing summer's wind,
" Wouldst know the blight it leaves behind?
" Repentance! Repentance!
" And this is Love — when love is o'er. "
" Tell me, what 's Love? " said Youth again,
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