Remembrance of lost pasts(for CR) When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past
William Shakespeare. Sonnet 30
Is it that you fancy looking back in old age,
Filling December’s dim, rheumy eyes,
You’ll have penned all of Love’s pages
With love deep as mine?
When our legs and backs creak with arthritis,
Working December’s cold, brittle bones,
Will you think of the love you’ve cost us,
The drear, dismal victory you’ve won?
Can you fancy looking back on a Mayfly,
Upon December’s sad, fading memory,
Once you too were a lad, so handsome, aye,
And once none loved you as I?
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