These boisterous boys, with bang and fizz, They make such noisy noise; But, then, perhaps the reason is, They are such boysy boys. The girls as well,—from early morn They shoot and shoot and shoot; And on a trumpet or a horn They toot and toot and toot. But you, whose locks are bleached by Time, (Or by the Chemist's aid), Heed my admonitory rhyme, Nor join the gay parade. |