No young man believes he shall ever die. It was a saying of my brother's, and a fine one. There is a feeling of Eternity¹（来世，不朽） in youth, which makes us amend² for everything. To be young is to be as one of the Immortal³ Gods. One half of time indeed is flown-the other half remains⁴ in store for us with all its countless⁵ treasures; for there is no line drawn⁶, and we see no limit to our hopes and wishes. We make the coming age our own-

The vast, the unbounded（无限的） prospect⁷ lies before us.

Death, old age are words without a meaning. That pass by us like the idea air which we regard not. Others may have undergone, or may still be liable to them-we "bear a charmed life", which laughs to scorn all such sickly fancies. As in setting out on delightful⁸ journey, we strain our eager gaze forward-

Bidding the lovely scenes at distance hail!

And see no end to the landscape, new objects presenting themselves as we advance; so, in the commencement of life, we set no bounds to our inclinations⁹（倾向，爱好） . nor to the unrestricted opportunities of gratifying them. we have as yet found no obstacle, no disposition¹⁰ to flag; and it seems that we can go on so forever. We look round in a new world, full of life, and motion, and ceaseless progress; and feel in ourselves all the vigor¹¹ and spirit to keep pace with it, and do not foresee from any present symptoms how we shall be left behind in the natural course of things, decline into old age, and drop into the grave. It is the simplicity¹², and as it were abstractedness of our feelings in youth, that (so to speak) identifies us with nature, and (our experience being slight and our passions strong) deludes¹³（迷惑，逃避） us into a belief of being immortal like it. Our short-lives connection with existence we fondly flatter ourselves, is an indissoluble and lasting¹⁴ union-a honeymoon¹⁵ that knows neither coldness, jar, nor separation. As infants smile and sleep, we are rocked in the cradle of our wayward fancies, and lulled¹⁶ into security by the roar of the universe around us0we quaff¹⁷ the cup of life with eager haste without draining it, instead of which it only overflows¹⁸ the more-objects press around us, filling the mind with their magnitude and with the strong of desires that wait upon them, so that we have no room for the thoughts of death.