Classic Poem

I MET Youth in a garden wild,
With roses tangled in her hair,
She looked into my eyes and smiled,
“Kiss me,” she said, “for I am fair.”

But laughingly I went my way
And heeded not the words she said;
What was her smile to me that day,
Her mischievous sweet mouth so red?

I went my way with dreaming eyes,
Oh light of heart I was, yet shy,
But not too old and not too wise
To miss the rainbows in the sky.

I went my way with dancing feet,
For I was slow to learn the truth,
That fame, and love, and song are sweet,
But not more thrilling sweet than youth.