When I Was Young
WHEN I was young I talked and sang of Love,
Lifted the veil that shrouded his sweet eyes,
Defied the power I rashly sought to prove,
And, light of heart, made jest of mysteries;
And thus it was, and never once I thought
That Love, dear Love, could be too dearly bought.
Grown older now, and wiser, sadder too,
I sing of Love no more; yet is my heart
Love's dwelling place, and shall be safe and true
Until the day that life and I muse part;
And thus it is, although full well I know
Who live for Love may chance to die for Woe.