Then half an hour was o'er the news beguiled,
When he retired as harmless as a child.
Set but aside the gravel and the gout,
And breathing short—his sand ran fairly out.
"At fifty-five we lost him—after that
Life grows insipid and its pleasures flat;
180
He had indulged in all that man can have,
He did not drop a dotard to his grave;
Still to the last, his feet upon the chair,