When!

WHEN I am young again I'll hoard my bliss, Nor deem that inexhaustible it is, Remembering old age comes after this, Joy grows to pain; Nor waste one moment of youth's rose-sweet hours, Nor trample one of all its countless flowers, But drink the summer sun and soft spring showers, When I am young again. I will be wise with wisdom dearly won By those who through life's wood have nearly run; Learn what to do, and what to leave undone, Risk or refrain. I will not seek into my mouth to take The bitter apple of the acrid lake, But at clear fountains all my thirsts will slake, When I am young again. I will not brush the bloom to reach the core, Remembering how it chanced with me before, And bloom once lost returns not any more, Hard cores remain: I will fence round with prudence and secure A lasting bloom whose freshness shall endure; Oh, I will guard my peach of youth, be sure, When I am young again. When I am young again, I'll spend no breath On bitter words the heart remembereth When bitterness is swallowed up by Death Holding sole reign; I'll love so well that if they pass to sleep Before me, I shall have no watch to keep Over their tears-only my tears to weep When I am young again. I will not lightly joy nor idly grieve, Nor for a heaven itself one soul deceive, Nor will I be deceived, vainly believe, Nor love in vain. Come back, lost youth! Ah, Fate, that one gift give! Then I will show that I have learned to live; Youth shall be wise--and two and two make five-- When I am young again!