O' here and too, now it appear Ah, tis' by means, it golden year Way to mortal glowing It would seem to have disappear Aged and low, in a twilight near Ever young, old growing Boohoo-hoo and taketh to heart The glut of days, gone by depart But, what else, are you thee Other than old, years, pass by smart Humanity gone, from the start Daydream no more, foresee © daniel miltz