My wars are laid away in books;
I have one battle more,
A foe whom I have never seen
But oft has scanned me o'er,
And hesitated me between
And others at my side,
But chose the best, neglecting me,
Till all the rest have died.
How sweet if I am not forgot
By chums that passed away,
Since playmates at threescore and ten
Are such a scarcity!