How soon hath time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stolen on his wing my two and sixtieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom sheweth.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near.
or
Thank you Mr Milton but I do not intend to grow up quite yet.
Comments
brian and beth
on March 13, 2011Bonne anniversaire, bonfrere!
We saw your doppelganger on the Cherbourg-Rosslare ferry sitting in the lounge with a ‘mots croises’ magazine, looking content. No Picpoul to be seen, helas! Have a good one, both of you.
Martin
on March 13, 2011I always send Doppy back to Ireland at this time (and demand that he stay off the vino) to leave me at peace to celebrate my birthday in France.
Thanks for the thoughts !
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