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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508198" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>At Eighty Years</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508198" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">As nothingness draws near<br> How I can see<br>Inexorably clear<br> My vanity.<br>My sum of worthiness<br> Always so small,<br>Dwindles from less to less<br> To none at all.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508198" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">As grisly destiny<br> Claims me at last,<br>How grievous seem to me<br> Sins of my past!<br>How keen a conscience edge<br> Can come to be!<br>How pitiless the dredge<br> Of memory!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508198" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Ye proud ones of the earth<br> Who count your gains,<br>What cherish you of worth<br> For all your pains?<br>E'er death shall slam the door,<br> Will you, like me,<br>Face fate and count the score--<br> FUTILITY.</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=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a></strong></div>

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