Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.

And if we do but watch the hour, There never yet was human power Which could evade, if unforgiven, The patient search and vigil long Of him who treasures up a …

The best of prophets of the future is the past.

'Bring forth the horse!' - the horse was brought; In truth, he was a noble steed, A Tartar of the Ukraine breed, Who look'd as though the speed of thought Were…

'Old man, look at my life, 24 and there's so much more, live alone in a paradise that makes me think of 2.' Old Man

They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man, The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.

I try to catch at many a tune Like petals of light fallen from the moon, Broken and bright on a dark lagoon, But they float away - for who can hold Youth, or p…