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OUNG Never-Grow-Old, with your heart of gold, And the dear boy's face upon you; It's hard to tell, though we know it well, That the grass is growing upon you. Flowers and grass, and the graveyard mould, Over the eyes of you, Never-Grow-Old, Over the heart of you, over each part of you, All your dear body, our Never-Grow-Old.

Never-Grow-Old, the theft of Time, His daily stealthy robbing, Is not for you—slain in your prime This one thought stays my sobbing. Never for you the flagging strength, The warm young heart grown cold, You earn your child pet-name at length, We called you "Never-Grow-Old"; Kissed curls, and called you "Young Never-Grow-Old."