foy franklin
Joined: Apr 3, 2005
Posts: 6 (view all)
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Gender & Age: Male & 28
Country: Cameroon
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YOUTH
November 29, 2006 - 12:23 PM
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Youth is to all the glad season of Life; but often only by what it Hopes,
Not what it attains, or what it escapes.
Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor;
Part with it as with money, Sparing; pay
No moment but in purchase of its Worth
And what it’s worth, ask deathbeds; they can tell.
Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old,
But dying has made us rarely gifts than Gold.
These laid the World away: poured out the red
Sweet wine of Youth; gave up the years to be
Of work and joy, and those who would have been
Their sons, they gave their immortality.
When all the World is Young, Lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a Swan, Lad,
And every lass a Queen;
Then hey, for boot and horse, Lad,
And round the World away
Young blood must have its course, Lad
And every dog his day.
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