Sad is that woman's lot who, year by year, <br />Sees, one by one, her beauties disappear; <br />As Time, grown weary of her heart-drawn sighs, <br />Impatiently begins to "dim her eyes"! - <br />Herself compelled, in life's uncertain gloamings, <br />To wreathe her wrinkled brow with well-saved "combings" - <br />Reduced, with rouge, lipsalve, and pearly grey, <br />To "make up" for lost time, as best she may! <br /> <br />Silvered is the raven hair, <br />Spreading is the parting straight, <br />Mottled the complexion fair, <br />Halting is the youthful gait, <br /> <br />Hollow is the laughter free, <br />Spectacled the limpid eye, <br />Little will be left of me, <br />In the coming by-and-by! <br />Fading is the taper waist - <br />Shapeless grows the shapely limb, <br />And although securely laced, <br />Spreading is the figure trim! <br />Stouter than I used to be, <br />Still more corpulent grow I - <br />There will be too much of me <br />In the coming by-and-by!<br /><br />WS Gilbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-coming-by-and-by-2/
