IN youth I roamed the woodlands free,
  I caught the breath of birch and pine;
The harebell blossomed fair to see,
  Wild grew the eglantine.

My soul was fresh as morning dew,
  My heart was clear of worldly taint;
And earth and sky a heaven-like hue,
  Did on my vision paint.

Had night ne'er come to halt my steed,
  Nor body pined for carnal fare,
I should have reached life's royal mead,—
  Contentment void of care.