But I have only gleaned the years
And weariness on me appears,
My youthful joys are past return,
Fortune and happiness to earn,
My few talents and heyday poise,
My greatness an expert employs,
My love and the offspring I sire
All that I recall in this mire.
Where shall I dwell in the bower
And boast then with leafy power,
When nothing else is bright,
To redeem,and delight.