O'er me have many winters crept

With less of grief than joy;

But I have learn'd, and toil'd, and wept;

I am no more a boy!

I've never had the gout, 'tis true;

My hair is hardly gray;

But now I cannot laugh like you:
Laugh on, laugh on to-day!

I used to have as glad a face,
As shadowless a brow;

I once could run as blithe a race
As you are running now;
But never mind how I behave!
Don't interrupt your play;
And though I look so very grave,
Laugh on, laugh on to-day!

Winthrop M. Praed.