When I Grow Old
When with wrinkled brow I grow old
and bags under my sunken eyes.
When with wore-out body, tattered soul,
with outdated coats and faded ties.
When I am old with drat hoary hair.
When my views seem to wonder wide
When tomorrow is more a scare
without yesterday's hurried stride.
When days are only partly filled
but with thoughts of my past,
When memories, some which time was killed-
form a world neither small nor vast.
When looking ahead is a harder thing,
than temptation to look back.
When melancholy feelings freely ring
of your love which I have never lacked.
When I am old, faint, gaunt, and frail
in all of body, spirit, and mind.
When seemingly closer to Heaven or Hell
with soon, my pilot's face to find.
When then, I see a young couple’s fling,
sweethearts, in a love like this,
When love again ring my old heart to sing
reminding me of our first kiss.
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