Age and Youth

The music's dull-I trust my Ears;

The day is cold- I blame no Blood;

The air has mist- I trust my Eyes;

My bread is stale- my Teeth hold good;

My bed is hard-I blame no Bones;

My drink is sour-I trust my Tongue.

Ears, Blood and Eyes; Teeth, Tongue and Bones-

Tell me what's wrong,

And speak the truth.

'It's strange, Old man, but no complaint

Has come from youth.'