Classic Poem

Jove grant large space of life, and length of days
With Confidence and vehemence one prays.
Ne're thinking what continual griefs attend,
And under what great ills old age does bend.
A Face deform'd , of horrid colour grown,
Unlike himself, his flabby cheeks hang down.
'Stead of a Skin he has an ugly hide ,
Wither'd and rough with wrinckles deep and wide,
Such as in shady woods of Tabraca ,
On rivled Cheeks, old Mother Ape does claw:
In youth there many great distinctions are
One is more strong, the other is more fair.
But in all old mens Faces there's no choice,
Limbs paralytick , trembling is the voice ,
With a bald pate , and with a nasty nose
That's ever dropping as an Infants does,
He mumbles bread between his toothless Gumms.
Irksome to's Wife and Children he becomes.
He's ev'n by Cossa loath'd, that abject Knave ,
That fawns and waits a Legacy to have.
Nor Wine nor Meat delight as in time past,
His Palate's now benum'd h'as lost his tast,
'Tis long, long, since a Woman he Embrac'd.
A long forgetfulness has seiz'd the part
Beyond the Cure of any Pains or Art.
Tho' all the Night he dallies, 'tis in vain,
It still does a poor Chiterlin remain.