Goats or Kids?

When I was twenty years of age, 
   Almost before my beard began, 
I deemed myself a seasoned sage, 
   Full of wise schemes for saving man. 
I saw injustice in the land 
   And tyranny and greed and fear; 
And with my fellow comrades planned 
   To change it all within a year. 

When I was thirty years of age 
   The world still muddled thro' somehow. 
The years had cooled my youthful rage 
   And cleared my vision somewhat now. 
I learned of human nature then, 
   Its lust for power, greed for pelf; 
And knew more of my fellow-men   
   As I began to know myself. 

When forty years had passed me by, 
   I knew men were not gods, in truth; 
Yet, with a kind and tolerant eye 
   Looked back upon that ardent youth. 
And, tho' still somewhat of a goat, 
   Mayhap, as dawning wisdom bids, 
Still tolerant, today, I note 
   That goats are craziest as kids.