YOUTH <br />Youth, ageless youth, the old gods' attribute! <br />--To inherit cheeks a--tingle with such blood <br />As wood nymphs blushed, who to the first--blown flute <br />Went out in endless dancing through the wood. <br />To live, and taste of that immortal food <br />After the wild day's waste prepared for us <br />By deathless hands, and straightway be renewed, <br />Like the god's entrails upon Caucasus. <br />To rise at dawn with eye and brain and sense <br />Clear as the pale green edge where dawn began, <br />While each bold thought full shapen should arise, <br />Cutting the horizon of experience, <br />Sharp as an obelisk.--Ah, wretched Man! <br />'Tis little wonder that the gods are wise.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-sonnets-of-proteus-part-iv-vita-nova-xcix/
