What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each love one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth as I am now.

My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone! - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),

Oh, for one hour of blind old Dandolo, Th' octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe!

. . . Years steal Fire from the mind, as vigor from the limb; And life's enchanted cut but sparkles near the brim.

He has grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life. So that no wonder waits him.

Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.