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Poems of James McIntyre

by James McIntyre

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Gray Hairs

Once on a time a lady quarrelled
With the witty Douglass Jerrold,
Because that he had been so bold,
To hint that she was growing old.

She said her hair was dark ’till one day
She used an essence turned it gray,
O, yes, said he, tincture of time
Affects the hair in this our clime.

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