WITH pensive eyes the little room I view, Where, in my youth, I weathered it so long; With a wild mistress, a stanch friend or two, And a light heart still breaking into song: Making a mock of life, and all its cares, Rich in the glory of my rising sun, Lightly I vaulted up four pair of stairs, In the brave days when I was twenty-one. Yes; 't is a garret -- let him know 't who will -- There is my bed -- full hard it was and small; My table there -- and I decipher still Half a lame couplet charcoaled on the wall. Ye joys, that Time hath swept with him away, Come to mine eyes, ye dreams of love and fun; For you I pawned my watch how many a day, In the brave days when I was twenty-one. One jolly evening, when my friends and I Made happy music with our songs and cheers, A shout of triumph mounted up thus high, And distant cannon opened on our ears: We rise -- we join in the triumphant strain -- Napoleon conquers -- Austerlitz is won -- Tyrants shall never tread us down again, In the brave days when I was twenty-one. Let us begone -- the place is sad and strange -- How far, far off, these happy times appear; All that I have to live I'd gladly change For one such month as I have wasted here -- To draw long dreams of beauty, love, and power, From founts of hope that never will outrun, And drink all life's quintessence in an hour, Give me the days when I was twenty-one! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUPREME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LEAVES OF A MAGAZINE by MARIANNE MOORE DREAM SONG: 2 by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SNOW IN THE SUBURBS by THOMAS HARDY TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP by GEORGE FREDERICK ROOT |