Youth

   I am not sure if I knew the truth
     What his case or crime might be,
   I only know that he pleaded Youth,
     A beautiful, golden plea!

   Youth, with its sunlit, passionate eyes,
     Its roseate velvet skin—
   A plea to cancel a thousand lies,
     Or a thousand nights of sin.

   The men who judged him were old and grey
     Their eyes and their senses dim,
   He brought the light of a warm Spring day
     To the Court-house bare and grim.

   Could he plead guilty in a lovelier way?
   His judges acquitted him.

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