If I live to be old, for I find I go down, Let this be my fate in a country town; May I have a warm house with a stone at the gate And a cleanly young girl to rub my bald pate. May I govern my passion with an absolute sway, And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away, Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay.
Footnotes
Theater of Musick, Walter Pope, 1630-1714
Submitted by Fred Charatan, retired geriatric psychiatrist, Florida
