But they advanced in wisdom every hour,
And made the commonwealth advance in power. 
But orators may grieve, for in their sides,
Rather than heads, their faculty abides;
Yet I have heard old voices loud and clear,
And still my own sometimes the Senate hear. 
When th’old with smooth and gentle voices plead,
They by the ear their well-pleased audience lead: 
Which, if I had not strength enough to do,
I could (my Laelius, and my Scipio) 300
What’s to be done, or not be done, instruct,
And to the maxims of good life conduct. 
Cneius and Publius Scipio, and (that man
Of men) your grandsire, the great African,
Were joyful when the flower of noble blood
Crowded their dwellings, and attending stood,
Like oracles their counsels to receive,
How in their progress they should act and live. 
And they whose high examples youth obeys, 309
Are not despised, though their strength decays;
And those decays (to speak the naked truth,
Though the defects of age) were crimes of youth. 
Intemp’rate youth (by sad experience found)
Ends in an age imperfect and unsound. 
Cyrus, though aged (if Xenophon say true),
Lucius Metellus (whom when young I knew),
Who held (after his second consulate)
Twenty-two years the high pontificate;
Neither of these in body, or in mind,
Before their death the least decay did find. 320
I speak not of myself, though none deny
To age, to praise their youth the liberty: 
Such an unwasted strength I cannot boast,
Yet now my years are eighty-four almost: 
And though from what it was my strength is far,
Both in the first and second Punic war,
Nor at Thermopylae, under Glabrio,
Nor when I Consul into Spain did go;
But yet I feel no weakness, nor hath length
Of winters quite enervated my strength; 330
And I, my guest, my client, or my friend,
Still in the courts of justice can defend: 
Neither must I that proverb’s truth allow,
‘Who would be ancient, must be early so.’ 
I would be youthful still, and find no need
To appear old, till I was so indeed. 
And yet you see my hours not idle are,
Though with your strength I cannot mine compare;
Yet this centurion’s doth your’s surmount,
Not therefore him the better man I count. 340
Milo when ent’ring the Olympic game,
With a huge ox upon his shoulder came. 
Would you the force of Milo’s body find,
Rather than of Pythagoras’s mind? 
The force which Nature gives with care retain,
But when decay’d, ’tis folly to complain. 
In age to wish for youth is full as vain,
As for a youth to turn a child again. 
Simple and certain Nature’s ways appear,
As she sets forth the seasons of the year. 350
So in all parts of life we find her truth,