Youth, lend me wings--I shall be soaring
High above this dead world, and enter
The realm of heavenly fantasy
And showers upon us fresh, unheard of blossoms
Clothing in hope its golden pictures.
. . .
O youth, above that low horizon
Fly, and with sunlike vision
Pierce through and through those masses
Of human creatures thronging!
(Ode to Youth by Adam Mickiewicz)