The speaker looks back on a youth in which his hopes were as energetic and disobedient as he was. They race up mountains without caring for rules or “traffic cops,” swing from the sun, moon, and Pleiades, ride the farthest wave, and mock death itself. They blow loud, defiant notes at men, creeds, and conventional right and wrong, giving the duller days ahead their only real music. Now that that high-spirited chapter is over, he feels no bitterness: he is simply glad his hopes had their fun.
The tone is mischievous and affectionate. The exaggerated cosmic imagery keeps the poem playful, while the closing line adds a light nostalgic warmth—not mourning lost youth, but enjoying the memory of its wildness.