Synopsis

AGE O Age, thou art the very thief of joy, For thou hast rifled many a proud fool Of all his ions, hoarded by a rule Of stern economy. Him, yet a boy, Harsh wisdom governed. Others turned to toy With lusty ion. He was chaste and cool As a young Dorian in Lycurgus' school. Ah me, that thou such souls shouldst dare annoy. Thus did he gather him a store of pleasure, Nor cared to touch what he so hardly won, But led long years of solitary strife; And, when the rest should have consumed their treasure, He thought to sit him in the evening sun And taste the sweet fruits of a sober life.