In the central place of every heart
there is a recording chamber.
So long as it receives a message
of bea
uty, hope, cheer, and co
urage --
so long are yo
u yo
ung.
When the wires are all down
and o
ur heart is covered
with the snow of pessimism
and the ice of cynicism,
then, and only then,
are yo
u grown old.
