1. The night of youth has departed,

    And gray hair—a dawn—has gleamed.

  2. Gray hair is nothing but dust

    That clung from the galloping of my life.

  3. I mounted when I grew middle—

    Aged—after a black steed, a piebald one.

  4. The key to union with the

    Beauties was lost, so the door is closed.

  5. Neither is my saddle-girth secure,

    Nor is my rein set free.

gpt-5.6-sol