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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506760" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Youth's Inexperience.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506760" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He is too young yet to know life's demands;<br>Being no natural philosopher,<br>He must from cause and custom draw that art<br>Which some of Nature have, the primal gift<br>Of all her treasury — the open thought<br>That climates in all circumstances, and breathes<br>A native ease in everything; fear-proof,<br>Even as a wild bird's weather-proof, being born<br>And bred light as the leaves he habits in;<br>Unlike his brother housed and finely reared<br>With magisterial care, whom every change<br>Affects like a distemper, as if he<br>Had lost his nature's ancient art, and grew<br>Like an exotic with a borrowed life.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+Crawford">Robert Crawford</a></strong></div>

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