My Parents, by David Hockney
W. B. Yeats

A Song

I THOUGHT no more was needed
Youth to prolong
Than dumb-bell and foil
To keep the body young.
Oh, who could have foretold
That the heart grows old?
 
Though I have many words,
What woman’s satisfied,
I am no longer faint
Because at her side?
Oh, who could have foretold
That the heart grows old?
 
I have not lost desire
But the heart that I had,
I thought ’twould burn my body
Laid on the death-bed.
But who could have foretold
That the heart grows old?
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