LINES
Reading edition
ON MY FORTY-NINTH BIRTHDAY.
(For the Mirror.)
On the slope of Life's decline, The landmark reached of forty-nine, Thoughtful on this heart of mine Strikes the sound of forty-nine. Greyish hairs with brown combine To note Time's hand—and forty-nine. Sunny hours that used to shine, Shadow o'er at forty-nine. Of youthful sports the joys decline, Symptoms strong of forty-nine. The dance I willingly resign, To lighter heels than forty-nine. Yet, why anxiously repine? Pleasures wait on forty-nine.
Social pleasures—joys benign— Still are found at forty-nine. With a friend to go and dine, What better age than forty-nine? Ladies with me sip their wine, Though they know I'm forty-nine. Tea and chat, and wit combine, To enliven musing forty-nine. Let harmony its chords untwine, Music charms at forty nine. O'er wasting care let croakers whine, Care we'll defy at forty-nine. Fifty shall not make me pine— Why lament o'er forty-nine. Joys let's trace of "Auld Lang Syne," Memory's fresh at forty-nine. Then fill a cup of rosy wine, And drink a health to FORTY-NINE. W. W.