CCXIII.

But now at thirty years my hair is grey-- (I wonder what it will be like at forty? I thought of a peruke the other day--)[av] My heart is not much greener; and, in short, I Have squandered my whole summer while 't was May, And feel no more the spirit to retort; I Have spent my life, both interest and principal, And deem not, what I deemed--my soul invincible.