(16th January 1949)
I thank whatever gods may be
For all the happiness that's mine;
That I am festive, fit and free
To savour women, wit and wine;
That I may game of golf enjoy,
And have a formidable drive:
In short, that I'm a gay old boy
Though I be
Seventy-and-five.
My daughter thinks. because I'm old
(I'm not a crock, when all is said),
I mustn't let my feet get cold,
And should wear woollen socks in bed;
A worsted night-cap too, forsooth!
To humour her I won't contrive:
A man is in his second youth
When he is
Seventy-and-five.
At four-score years old age begins,
And not till then, I warn my wife;
At eighty I'll recant my sins,
And live a staid and sober life.
But meantime let me whoop it up,
And tell the world that I'm alive:
Fill to the brim the bubbly cup-
Here's health to
Seventy-and-five!
Birthday
Robert Service
(3)
Poem topics: daughter, golf, happiness, january, life, night, wife, women, world, health, cold, score, game, short, live, enjoy, youth, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Simeon Mogba: I need to improve immensely in poem writing
Ruth okoye: Its quite interesting and I love it
Ruth okoye: Its quite interesting and I love it
ruth okoye: Its quite interesting. I love it
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