The Greying of My Hair
Henry Lawson, 1907
Oh! the world is very shifty
In every land and clime
We were dark-haired men of fifty
In my father's father's time;
And in vain I seek to borrow
Comfort for they two had care;
I can only gaze in sorrow
At the greying of my hair.
I have not been over naughty,
And I've not been over good,
But a grey-haired man of forty
My tribe never understood.
I took no heed of the morrow,
I was brave to do and dare
So I gaze in pride and sorrow
At the greying of my hair.
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