Age Poem by Walter Savage Landor
Age
Death, tho' I see him not, is near
And grudges me my eightieth year.
Now, I would give him all these last
For one that fifty have run past.
Ah! he strikes all things, all alike,
But bargains: those he will not strike.
There is no bargain at all. Nice write. Short and to the point.
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4/23/2024 9:13:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Now, I would give him all these last For one that fifty have run past. a very good poem. tony