I am not old, — I cannot be old, Though tottering, wrinkled, and gray ; Though my eyes are dim, and my marrow is cold, Call me not old to-day. - Martin Farquhar Tupper

Hush,—for the halo of calmness is spreading Over my spirit as mild as a dove; Hush,—for the angel of comfort is shedding Over my body his vial of love; Hush,—for new slumbers are over me stealing, Thus would I court them again and again, Hush,—for my heart is intoxicate,—reeling In the swift waltz of my beautiful brain!

A dream, a dream, — it is all a dream, A strange, sad dream, good sooth; For old as I am, and old as I seem, My heart is full of youth.

His fashion is passion, sincere and intense, — His impulse is simple and true; Yet temper'd by judgment, and taught by good sense, And cordial with me and with you.