The Autumn is old; The sere leaves are flying; He hath gather'd up gold, And now he is dying;- Old age, begin sighing!
Thomas HoodIt was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm further off from heaven Than when I was a boy.
Thomas HoodSome minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.
Thomas HoodOur very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.
Thomas Hood