The more one criticised the veriest trifle,
The more gout and similar titbits one possessed,
The more teeth one had lost by their good will,
The more one stooped over his heavy crutch,
The more fit, in fact, one was to be buried,
The more within its ramparts one was honored.
O Sparta! O Sparta! alas! what has become of you?
Yon knew the full value of a hoary head.
Accumulated years have pushed me to extremity.