The music's dull I trust my Ears; The day is cold I blame no Blood; The air is mist I trust my Eyes; My breath is stale my Teeth hold good; My bed is hard I blame no Bones; My drink is Sour I trust my Tongue. Ears, Blood and Eyes; Teeth, Tongue and Bones Tell me what's wrong, And speak the truth. @3'It's strange, Old man, but no complaint Has come from Youth.'@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS by FRANCIS HOPKINSON SILVIO'S COMPLAINT: A SONG, TO A FINE SCOTCH TUNE by APHRA BEHN CLOUD-LIFE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TO ENGLAND (2) by GEORGE HENRY BOKER HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 42 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH ON READING A POET'S FIRST BOOK by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER |