When a woman's face is wrinkled
And her hairs are sprinkled, With gray, Lackaday!
Aside she's cast, No one respect will pay;
Remember, Lasses, remember.
And while the sun shines make hay:
You must not expect in December, The flowers you gathered in May.
And her hairs are sprinkled, With gray, Lackaday!
Aside she's cast, No one respect will pay;
Remember, Lasses, remember.
And while the sun shines make hay:
You must not expect in December, The flowers you gathered in May.
( Ann Rinaldi )
[ Or Give Me Death: A Novel of ]
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