The 23 year

It is curious that you go through an entire year before it is counted in you favor. I am now 23. And I have not just "turned" 23 but have experienced 23 years. There is certain maturity built into the classification of age and I find I rather like it. Well, this was fitting, strangely and to a degree.

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.

Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth
That I to manhood am arrived so near;
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely happy spirits endu'th.

Yet, be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,

Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven.
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye.

- John Milton