Oh bear with me, for I am old <br />And count on fingers five <br />The years this pencil I may hold <br />And hope to be alive; <br />How sadly soon our dreaming ends! <br />How brief the sunset glow! <br />Be kindly to the old, my friends: <br />You'll miss them when they go. <br /> <br />I've seen so many disappear <br />That I can scarce forget, <br />For death has made them doubly dear <br />And ripened my regret. <br />How wistfully I've wished them back, <br />With cherishing to show <br />The gentleness I used to lack <br />In years of long ago. <br /> <br />You, young and fit, will falter too, <br />And when Time's load you bear, <br />'Twill help if others turn to you <br />With comforting and car; <br />With loving look and tender touch . . . <br />Aye, in their twilight wan <br />Revere the old - for Oh how much <br />You'll miss them when they've gone!<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-2/
