Read "My Eighteenth Year. from the French" by George Borrow online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Where is my eighteenth year? far back / Upon life's variegated track; / Yet fondly oft I turn my eye, / And for my eighteenth year I sigh.
Each pleasure then I took with zest, / And hope was inmate of my breast -- / Enchanting hope, consoling thing, / The plucker out of sorrow's sting.
The sun above shone brighter then, / Fairer were women, kinder men; / If tears I shed, they soon were o'er, / And I was happier than before.
The minstrel-wight of ancient day / Wish'd that the twelve months all were May; / I wish that every year I see / The eighteenth of my life could be.