Explore "Thirty-Nine" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O hapless day! O wretched day! / I hoped you'd pass me by -- / Alas, the years have sneaked away / And all is changed but I! / Had I the power, I would remand / You to a gloom condign, / But here you've crept upon me and / I -- I am thirty-nine!
Now, were I thirty-five, I could / Assume a flippant guise; / Or, were I forty years, I should / Undoubtedly look wise; / For forty years are said to bring / Sedateness superfine; / But thirty-nine don't mean a thing -- / _A bas_ with thirty-nine!