 | The Autobiography of John Galt |  |
244
EPIGRAM.
If 'tis old age to mope alone,Fortune, hope, health, and friendship gone,
Return'd from viewing many a clime,
And reading but to kill the time,
With wat'ry eye, and bosom cold,
Friends, that were mine,—am I not old?
| The Autobiography of John Galt | |