I THOUGHT no more was needed    
Youth to prolong    
Than dumb-bell and foil    
To keep the body young.    
Oh, who could have foretold    
That the heart grows old?    
 
Though I have many words,    
What woman’s satisfied,    
I am no longer faint    
Because at her side?    
Oh, who could have foretold    
That the heart grows old?    
 
I have not lost desire    
But the heart that I had,    
I thought ’twould burn my body
Laid on the death-bed.    
But who could have foretold    
That the heart grows old?

The Wild Swans at Coole. 1919.

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