When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen,-
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.
When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down,-
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among:
God grant you find one face there
You loved when all was young.
The Old, Old Song
Charles Kingsley
(2)
Poem topics: away, dog, god, green, home, horse, grant, place, brown, face, queen, Valentine's Day, sport, goose, world, young, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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