I asked of ancient gaffers three <br /> The way of their ripe living, <br />And this is what they told to me <br /> Without Misgiving. <br /> <br />The First: 'The why I've lived so long, <br /> To my fond recollection <br />Is that for women, wine and song <br /> I've had a predilection. <br />Full many a bawdy stave I've sung <br /> With wenches of my choosing, <br />But of the joys that kept me young <br /> The best was boozing.' <br /> <br />The Second: 'I'm a sage revered <br /> Because I was a fool <br />And with the bourgeon of my beard <br /> I kept my ardour cool. <br />On health I have conserved my hold <br /> By never dissipating: <br />And that is why a hundred old <br /> I'm celebrating.' <br /> <br />The Third: 'The explanation I <br /> Have been so long a-olding, <br />Is that to wash I never try, <br /> Despite conjugal scolding. <br />I hate the sight of soap and so <br /> I seldom change my shirt: <br />Believe me, Brother, there is no <br /> Preservative like dirt.' <br /> <br />So there you have the reasons three <br /> Why age may you rejoice: <br />Booze, squalour and temerity,-- <br /> Well, you may take your choice. <br />Yet let me say, although it may <br /> Your egoism hurt, <br />Of all the three it seems to me <br /> The best is DIRT.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-centenarians/
