THE world was made when a man was born, <br />He must taste for himself the forbidden springs; <br />He can never take warning from old-fashion'd things; <br />He must fight as a boy, he must drink as a youth, <br />Of the friend of his soul; he must laugh to scorn <br />The hints of deceit in a woman's eyes-- <br />They are clear as the wells of Paradise. <br /> <br />And so he goes on till the world grows old, <br />Till his toung has grown cautious, his heart has grown cold, <br />Till the smile leaves his mouth, till the ring leaves his laugh, <br />And he shirks the bright headache you ask him to quaff. <br />He grows formal with men, and with women polite, <br />And distrustful of both when they're out of his sight. <br />Then he eats for his palate and drinks for his head, <br />And loves for his pleasure,--and 'tis time he was dead.<br /><br />John Boyle O'Reilly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/experience-2/
