[1] Youth'S Endearing Charms Are Fled; Hoary Locks Deform My Head; Bloomy Graces, Dalliance Gay, All The Flowers Of Life Decay.[2] Withering Age Begins To Trace Sad Memorials O'Er My Face; Time Has Shed Its Sweetest Bloom All The Future Must Be Gloom. This It Is That Sets Me Sighing; Dreary Is The Thought Of Dying![3] Lone And Dismal Is The Road, Down To Pluto'S Dark Abode; And, When Once The Journey'S O'Er, Ah! We Can Return No More!