And the folk do be following me to see will I let drop one gem of verse that they can tell their grandchildren they heard from the lips of Li Po.

And when my heart is high with the drinking, I take a lute from a traveling poet, and not knowing what I'm saying, I compose the song.
Out of fallow sorrow bloom the little songs.

You mustn't be hard on an old man, wee Golden Bells, and he thinking long for his dead friends." "Ah, poor Li Po," she said, and she had grown all soft again.

"Is it so terrible to be old ?" "Now you ask me a question, Golden Bells, and I'll give you an answer.
Besides, it's part of my duties to teach you wisdom.

Now, it is not a terrible thing, at all, at all, to be old.