When, in our youth, the world was fresh as dew
as fresh as though that day it had been made _
Enchantment entered it and as it grew
we ran to meet it gladly, unafraid _
It came as softly as the soft dusk fell
this first awareness of some strange, new thing _
We did not understand its lovely spell
we only knew _ though winter _ it was Spring!
Though not quite sure what wonder had transpired
Our's was a shining world, that much was clear _
We drank it in and we were never tired
we were alive within a singing sphere!
O young first-love, how could you understand
you held the universe within your hand _
(I have to admit a 'first Love' that has turned into
an 'everlasting love' is the 'best love'!)