Two age-related poems. One by A.E. Housman, and one by a Housman satirist.

1.When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your hear away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free."
But I was one-and-twenty
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue."
And I am two-and-twenty
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

-A.E. Housman, 1896

2. What, still alive at twenty-two,
A clean, upstanding chap like you?
Sure, if your throat 'tis hard to slit,
Slit your girl's, and swing for it.

Like enough, you won't be glad
When they come to hang you, lad:
But bacon's not the only thing
That's cured by hanging from a string.

So, when the spilt ink of the night
Spreads o'er the blotting-pad of light,
Lads whose job is still to do
Shall when their knives, and think of you.

-Hugh Kingsmill, c. 1920

Ok, a little dark, but you have to admit it's funny. Or something. Anyway, today I am twenty-three.
- posted by k @ 1:20 AM