Age.

OFt am I by the Women told,
Poor Anacreon thou grow'st old.
Look how thy Hairs are falling all;
Poor Anacreon how they fall?
Whether I grow old or no,
By th'effects I do not know.
This I know without being told,
'Tis Time to Live if I grow Old,
'Tis time short pleasures now to take,
Of little Life the best to make,
And manage wisely the last stake.