Classic Poem

Viella, why at fifty nine,
Thus gay, thus brisk dost thou appear?
Why do sparkling diamonds shine
In thy party-colour'd hair?

Why art thou seen at balls and plays
In gaudy garments dress'd?
You say whole crowds upon you gaze;
I grant you ... 'tis confess'd.

The youthful ridiculing train
With inward smiles behold
A wretch like you so very vain,
And yet so very old.

Yet thou can'st talk of warm desire,
And of the joys of love,
When thou art ready to expire,
And ought'st to look above.

For shame, Viella, cease to ape
The blooming, sprightly fair.
In gear of gauze, and weed of crape
You'd like yourself appear.