Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never driveO'er the bounds of
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stop and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five:
He that ever hopes to
Must begin by thirty-five:
And all who wisely wish to
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
