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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392071" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Old And Young</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392071" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">LONG ago, on a bright spring day, <br>I passed a little child at play; <br>And as I passed, in childish glee <br>She called to me, “Come and play with me!” <br> <br>But my eyes were fixed on a far-off height <br>I was fain to climb before the night; <br>So, half-impatient, I answered, “Nay! <br>I am too old, too old to play.” <br> <br>Long, long after, in Autumn time— <br>My limbs were grown too old to climb—<br>I passed a child on a pleasant lea, <br>And I called to her, “Come and play with me!” <br> <br>But her eyes were fixed on a fairy-book; <br>And scarce she lifted a wondering look, <br>As with childish scorn she answered, “Nay! <br>I am too old, too old to play!”</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Francis+William+Bourdillon">Francis William Bourdillon</a></strong></div>