A Bit of Goldsmith’s Work New Gilt.
When lovely woman once so jolly,
Finds, late in life, that hair grows grey,
How make her case less melancholy,
How hide Time’s step that none can stay?
The only way his track to cover,
To mask her age from every eye,
And if she have a spoon for lover
To keep him still “spoons,” is—to dye!