Though I am an old man <br />With my bones very brittle, <br />Though I am a poor old man <br />Worth very little, <br />Yet I suck at my long pipe <br />At peace in the sun, <br />I do not fret nor much regret <br />That my work is done. <br /> <br />If I were a young man <br />With my bones full of marrow, <br />Oh, if I were a bold young man <br />Straight as an arrow, <br />And if I had the same years <br />To live once again, <br />I would not change their simple range <br />Of laughter and pain. <br /> <br />If I were a young man <br />And young was my Lily, <br />A smart girl, a bold young man, <br />Both of us silly. <br />And though from time before I knew <br />She'd stab me with pain, <br />Though well I knew she'd not be true, <br />I'd love her again. <br /> <br />If I were a young man <br />With a brisk, healthy body, <br />Oh, if I were a bold young man <br />With love of rum toddy, <br />Though I knew that I was spiting <br />My old age with pain, <br />My happy lip would touch and sip <br />Again and again. <br /> <br />If I were a young man <br />With my bones full of marrow, <br />Oh, if I were a bold young man <br />Straight as an arrow, <br />I'd store up no virtue <br />For Heaven's distant plain, <br />I'd live at ease as I did please <br />And sin once again.<br /><br />Robert Graves<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brittle-bones-2/
