AN OLD HEART
How young I am! Ah! heaven, this curse of youth Doth mock me from my mirror with great eyes,And pulsing veins repeat the unwelcome truth, That I must live, though hope within me dies.
So young, and yet I have had all of life. Why, men have lived to see a hundred years,Who have not known the rapture, joy, and strife Of my brief youth, its passion and its tears.
Oh! what are...
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