POETRY
... SONG. Am I wrong in sighing For the days gone by, With the date of dying Every day more nigh P Everything was merry In the days of youth, Innocent and very Far above the truth. Every one is sorry In the night of age, Having no hope-for he Is become too sage. Everyone has leisure Whenl he is a boy, Time is all a pleasure, And the world a joy. Evervthing is less sure When a man is old, Time is ...