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i never will grow old.
The earnest praises of the young,
The blessings of the old,—
I' ll gather them in, I' ll hoard them up,
As a miser hoards his gold!
The blessings of the old,—
I' ll gather them in, I' ll hoard them up,
As a miser hoards his gold!
Those loves may die, yet hopeful trust
Shall leave me, fail me, never;
I will plant roses on their graves,—
Vive la jeunesse for ever!
Shall leave me, fail me, never;
I will plant roses on their graves,—
Vive la jeunesse for ever!
Smile on, doubt on, say life is sad,
The world is false and cold,—
I' ll keep my heart glad, true, and warm,—
I never will grow old!
The world is false and cold,—
I' ll keep my heart glad, true, and warm,—
I never will grow old!
