To E.L., May 31

Once more the Earth goes round the Sun
And certifies the day when you
No longer can be twenty-one,
Because you must be twenty-two.
And, though I wish to keep you young,
I shall not like your years the less
So long as they like pearls are strung
Upon your chain of happiness.
So may you always younger be—
So may I grow to love you more.
I'll gladly have you twenty-three
And praise the day you're twenty-four.
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