“WHAT IF I GROW OLD AND GRAY”
Reading edition
What if I grow old and gray Who was once so gallant-gay? When my goodliness shall pass As the flower of the grass; When there shall be none to claim Friendship in my youth’s dear name; When my soul that leapt like fire Limps, too dreary for desire; When the door of Silence stands Open to my fumbling hands;— Though I almost make you cry, (You, still young and passing by,) Leave me proud and high and free. Never dare to pity me! For I make my journeying Far from every sorry thing. I have lived too glad to fear Any hurt or horror here; And I shall be glad once more When the Silence swings its door, And I enter in, and see.— Oh, you must not pity me!