When I am old and must remember joy

These are the years to think upon as fierce

And full of sunlight. Now, half man, half boy,

Now create wild memories that pierce

My heart with loveliness, that stir and shake

My blood like running naked in the drift

Of surf and shouting. Now for love I take

Whatever eager lips young girls will lift.

Sudden and perilous exploration

Of the soul I dare in wonder and alone.

With no less careless pride than in frustration

I turn victory pure gold, my own.

Oh, but I shall have richness to remember

When this green summer dies to gray November!