Unhallowed, this immortal truth
Is known alike by fool and sage:
That the green and golden dreams of youth
Become the grey regrets of age
And no Nepenthe’ will assuage
A man whose broken soul
Flitters in it’s failing cage
For want of being whole.
There is a second, nobler truth
Taught by beggar-men and priests;
A simple way to savor youth
And save, of our youth, a piece.
A beckoning wonder, a beckoning feast
Of life, from a truth so small
Which rivals the fabled Golden Fleece
This truth, which is our highest call:
Live now, if you would live at all.