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Visions of Age

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I have seen better days,
Though I dream of being four.
Oh, childhood’s garish rays.
Could they really be no more?

Was bliss there?
What do I have to fear?
Where, oh where, is the care?
Age, I fear, is here.

Am I to be strong?
A hard-worker, of course!
I swear those words are wrong.
Silliness not force!

Was bliss there?
What do I have to fear?
Where, oh where, is the care?
Poverty, I fear, is here.

When songs could merely be sung,
When a smile was money enough,
When, about, was flung!
When people were not so rough.

Was bliss there?
What do I have to fear?
Where, oh where, is the care?
War, I fear, is here.





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