What will become of us-
When Youth passes us on-
What will become of our glee-
And endless dreams-
When Time has wrought them dry-
When age has sallowed our Love-
And rendered Lust a miser-
Sense affronted our gangs of Lies-
And censured Them on us-
Will we sing- With focused hearts-
Or touch as tender- As before-
Will we sink- Amid the ashes-
Or limp- Ill-willed- Back for More-
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