The winter I was twenty one

No happier young man under the sun

Exulted in the clay or went to sleep

With joy as winged or as deep.

I knew what joy it was to share

The least and greatest thought, to care

Each minute what She did, and where.

She lay her inmost secret heart

Open to me, and made mine part

Of Hers, secure from life's defeat,

By one another made complete.

Life, I think at twenty-three,

Soars once to such felicity,

And the months and long days after

Are filled with words and stranger's laughter.

Many a well-remembered kiss

And hushed embrace has come to this,

That elders know I'm speaking of

Being most terribly in love.