Classic Poem

To have but just that youth once more,
How gladly would I give away
All, the long years may hold in store!
How gladly, for that early day,
Give all, I have! except, may be,
That day's eternal memory.

The boys, on whom I look, and sigh
To be no more, no more, as they;
Might laugh to learn, that such as I,
Scarce older than themselves, can say
Such wistful things, that best beseem,
Surely, an old man's hopeless dream!

Old men would understand: they know,
What mighty change, one hour must make;
When to the open world boys go,
And come not back, but turn and take
Their several ways to joy or ruth:
But never a way leads back to youth!

Years hence, your willing feet may find
These Fields beside the royal stream:
And mine will haunt, if fate prove kind,
My Winton Meads , and walk in dream:
But never, as in days of old;
The days of youth! the age of gold!