The frenzied joys of youth have turned to waste,
Their residue a harsh and bitter taste;
And in my soul the sorrows of the past,
Like wine, take on with age a stronger cast.
My path is dark: the stormy seas ahead
Now promise me great labor, woe, and dread.

But, O my friends, I want no deathly fate;
I yearn to live, suffer and create.
I know there will be joys and exaltations
Amid the sorrows, cares, and tribulations;
That once again sweet harmony I’ll find,
That tears of inspiration will be mine;
And, maybe, in the sunset of my day
Bright love will cast a parting smile my way.