Long Life By Kennedy

Count not thy life by calendars; for years
Shall pass thee by undeeded, whilst an hour-‘
Some little fleeting hour, too quickly passed-
May stamp itself so deeply on thy brow,
Thy latest years shall live upon its joy.
His life is longest not whose boneless gums,
Sunk eyes, wan cheeks, and snow white hairs bespeak
Life’s limit; nol But he whose memory
Is thickest set with those delicious scenes
‘Tis sweet to ponder o’er when even falls.

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