When I Was Still A Youthful Wight, So Full Of Enjoyment And Merry, The Painters Used To Assert, In Spite, That My Features Were Small Yes, Very; Yet Then Full Many A Beauteous Child With True Affection Upon Me Smil'D. Now As A Greybeard I Sit Here In State, By Street And By Lane Held In Awe, Sirs; And May Be Seen, Like Old Frederick The Great, On Pipebowls, On Cups, And On Saucers. Yet The Beauteous Maidens, They Keep Afar; Oh Vision Of Youth! Oh Golden Star!