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Youth's endearing charms are fled;
Hoary locks deform my head;
Bloomy graces, dalliance gay,
All the flowers of life decay.[2]
Withering age begins to trace
Sad memorials o'er my face;
Time has shed its sweetest bloom
All the future must be gloom.
This it is that sets me sighing;
Dreary is the thought of dying![3]
Lone and dismal is the road,
Down to Pluto's dark abode;
And, when once the journey's o'er,
Ah! we can return no more!
Odes Of Anacreon - Ode Lxi
Thomas Moore
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Poem topics: dark, future, journey, life, sad, time, head, face, return, thought, youth, bloom, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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