On Being Arrived to the Age of Twenty-Three

Today in my British lit class we read this poem. I just laughed. Imagine, being 23 and feeling like you are so old you will never be able to accomplish all you want to in life! (Not that these very thoughts have been running through my mind recently...)

I think Milton has much better stuff out there (he did, after all, write this when he was 23), but this is still enjoyable. Especially if you are 23.

HOW soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew’th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits indu’th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven,
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Task-master’s eye

(Stay tuned for a list of reasons why 23 IS old at BYU...)