At What Price? Age, too high a price to pay for wisdom, Knowledge is not worth the bitter price paid; Nor, the passing of the plans youth has laid, That tumble to earth like withered blossoms. Flesh once firm and soft withers and weathers, Beauty dims and character takes over; Hands that once soothed and caressed a lover; Are grained now like the finest of leathers. Yet, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, And a childlike wonder at all abound; Though life may batter her body around, Her soul still remembers the way to fly. From youth to age our heroine marches, With head held high; if on falling arches!