When I am old and drenched in worlds of sadness, And wear a lacy cap upon my head;When, looking past the future's singing gladness, I linger, wistful, in the years long dead.When I am old, and young folk all about me, Speak softly of religion, when they speak,When parties are a grand success without me; And when my laugh is fluttering and weak --
Will I then be content to raise my glances, Serenely to the cloud-entangled sky?And will I be content to watch at dances, Without a heartbreak, as the hours pass by?Or when I see young lovers' fingers twine,Will I remember, dear, your lips on mine?
