Countee Cullen - Youth Sings A Song Of Rosebuds lyrics

Since men grow diffident at last, And care no whit at all, If spring be come, or the fall be past, Or how the cool rains fall, I come to no flower but I pluck, I raise no cup but I sip, For a mouth is the best of sweets to s**; The oldest wine's on the lip. If I grow old in a year or two, And come to the querulous song Of 'Alack and aday' and 'This was true, And that, when I was young,' I must have sweets to remember by, Some blossom saved from the mire, Some d**h-rebellious ember I Can fan into a fire.