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The  women tell me every day
That all my bloom has past away.
"Behold," the pretty wantons cry,
"Behold this mirror with a sigh;
The locks upon thy brow are few,
And, like the rest, they're withering too!"
Whether decline has thinn'd my hair,
I'm sure I neither know nor care;
But this I know, and this I feel,
As onward to the tomb I steal,
That still as death approaches nearer,
The joys of life are sweeter, dearer;
And had I but an hour to live,
That little hour to bliss I'd give!

FM
Originally Posted by Gilbakka:

Birthday Greetings, D2. Sorry I'm late.

De old bai slow dese days.

As long as the mind is not...thanx...my only regret is i select my fake birth day to be on the same day as that fellow Nehru. Divine providence would not be so cruel to me to have my nativity be as inauspicious as to have to share it with him...Drift the date you chose one day forward from your reply an you will nailed it. Cher got it right. My apologies to Amber. But she has my heart in her heart and that is what matters.

FM
Last edited by Former Member

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