My Lost Youth. Oh, what is a youth?

Came across this Longfellow poem, while reading something way less profound, and the wonderful lines there:

A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts

Advance to 1:16, if you are not patient enough, for a verse from the poem:

There are things of which I may not speak;

      There are dreams that cannot die;

There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,

And bring a pallor into the cheek,

      And a mist before the eye.

            And the words of that fatal song

            Come over me like a chill:

      "A boy's will is the wind's will,

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 

So, how about wrapping it up with this: