I have liv’d long enough: my way of life
Is fall’n into the sere, ★ the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the ★ poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.