Their youthful joy warms my old bones but soon they’ll drift away.
They owe me not for keep or ken; they’ve more than paid their stay.
The great wheel turns and from the north I feel the winters chill
I thank the gods for sparing me but now I pay the bill.
For Nature picks the comic cast and Nature holds my note.
So soon the call, the trumpets blast; the judges have the vote.
On right and left will be a wife when all my sins come due.
Perhaps I’ll spend eternity as dust that coats your shoe.