Upon thy eyes,
I am but a lice,
For you never see my soul,
Longing for you thy cries.
But time is changed,
And with it fortunes exchanged,
I see the world,
As a boy never ever to get old.
I now believe,
In my own strong will,
That will not tilt, That will not wilt.
For youth is not that which goes after 20,
It is that which one can always avail aplenty,
And who said fifty is old,
For one who has a heart of gold.
