1. Some people wish their youth would last,
While I love to hasten my greyness,

2. I fear for myself missteps, for I
Saw tender youth a gardener of the heart,

3. I'm not content for my youth
To be the prey of my heart if I weep for my sin,

4. I care to blame youth and dispraise it
So it may depart praised, and my company prevent me,

5. Let me complain emptily to the passion which led me
And scattered my sleep and doubled my worries,

6. It's enough for me that I remain frightened
Spending the night in anxiety and waking in vexation,

7. My soul was not like souls who long
For the foolishness of youth between wine and drinking,

8. But it is a soul that yearns for heights
With the yearning of doves moaning for fresh bosoms.