If I should wake up and be old,
I'll lie beneath a willow tree,
To let rememembrances unfold
Of all that I once used to be.
And in my dotage be content
To watch the moon caress the sky,
Perchance to gaze without lament,
And dream, and let Her wander by.
There comes with age a modest peace,
When all we've done, and what we've seen,
Like thoughts forgotten ere they cease,
Or moments that have come and been.
We are the dust of all we know,
A universe which cannot die,
How solemn is the silent flow
Of life within each mortal eye.