Our Minds Are Married, But We Are Too Young

Our minds are married, but we are too young 

For wedlock by the customs of this age 

When parent homes pen each in seperate cage 

And only supper-earning songs are sung. 

 

Times past, when medieval woods were green, 

Babes were betrothed, and that betrothal brief. 

Remember Romeo in love and grief 

- Those star-crossed lovers - Juliet was fourteen. 

 

Times past, the caveman by his new-found fire 

Rested beside his mate in woodsmoke's scent. 

By our own fireside we shall rest content 

Fifty years hence keep troth with hearts desire. 

 

We shall remember, when our hair is white, 

These clouded days revealed in radiant light.

 

 

George Orwell

Given to Jacintha Buddicom, Christmas 1918