II.

Too old for Youth,--too young, at thirty-five, To herd with boys, or hoard with good threescore,-- I wonder people should be left alive; But since they are, that epoch is a bore: Love lingers still, although 't were late to wive: And as for other love, the illusion's o'er; And Money, that most pure imagination, Gleams only through the dawn of its creation.[613]