Milton, our noblest poet, in the grace <br />Of youth, in those fair eyes and clustering hair, <br />That brow untouched by one faint line of care, <br />To mar its openness, we seem to trace <br />The front of the first lord of the human race, <br />Mid thine own Paradise portrayed so fair, <br />Ere Sin or Sorrow scathed it: such the air <br />That characters thy youth. Shall time efface <br />These lineaments as crowding cares assail! <br />It is the lot of fallen humanity. <br />What boots it! armed in adamantine mail, <br />The unconquerable mind, and genius high, <br />Right onward hold their way through weal and woe, <br />Or whether life's brief lot be high or low!<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-youth-2/
