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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409545" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Lost Youth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Often I think of the beautiful town<br>That is seated by the sea;<br>Often in thought go up and down<br>The pleasant streets of that dear old town,<br>And my youth comes back to me. <br>And a verse of a Lapland song<br>Is haunting my memory still:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,<br>And catch, in sudden gleams,<br>The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,<br>And islands that were the Hesperides<br>Of all my boyish dreams.<br>And the burden of that old song,<br>It murmurs and whispers still:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I remember the black wharves and the ships,<br>And the sea-tides tossing free;<br>And Spanish sailors with bearded lips,<br>And the beauty and mystery of the ships,<br>And the magic of the sea.<br>And the voice of that wayward song<br>Is singing and saying still:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I remember the bulwarks by the shore,<br>And the fort upon the hill;<br>The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar,<br>The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er,<br>And the bugle wild and shrill.<br>And the music of that old song<br>Throbs in my memory still:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I remember the sea-fight far away,<br>How it thundered o'er the tide!<br>And the dead captains, as they lay<br>In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay<br>Where they in battle died.<br>And the sound of that mournful song<br>Goes through me with a thrill:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I can see the breezy dome of groves,<br>The shadows of Deering's Woods;<br>And the friendships old and the early loves<br>Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves<br>In quiet neighborhoods.<br>And the verse of that sweet old song,<br>It flutters and murmurs still:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I remember the gleams and glooms that dart<br>Across the school-boy's brain;<br>The song and the silence in the heart,<br>That in part are prophecies, and in part<br>Are longings wild and vain.<br>And the voice of that fitful song<br>Sings on, and is never still:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are things of which I may not speak;<br>There are dreams that cannot die;<br>There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,<br>And bring a pallor into the cheek,<br>And a mist before the eye.<br>And the words of that fatal song<br>Come over me like a chill:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Strange to me now are the forms I meet<br>When I visit the dear old town;<br>But the native air is pure and sweet,<br>And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street,<br>As they balance up and down,<br>Are singing the beautiful song,<br>Are sighing and whispering still:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Deering's Woods are fresh and fair,<br>And with joy that is almost pain<br>My heart goes back to wander there,<br>And among the dreams of the days that were,<br>I find my lost youth again.<br>And the strange and beautiful song,<br>The groves are repeating it still:<br>&quot;A boy's will is the wind's will,<br>And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409545" data-title="My Lost Youth de Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" data-description="Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me. 
And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
&quot;A boy's wil..."></div>
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