To Memos of Shakespear

When the pagesof my years are turn Doubt not much about the lost years The tears,the wears, and the running fears I could have been any man but not Myself i am but myself In love of thought and pen points I hold a flame to dark night And light with light he moon light And when the sun is up about heaven I try a smile for frown path Reckon a good is good of righteous self As the path of moon and sun never meet And a glad heart is a precious thing That few a man would but need