 | Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies |  |
XV.
MEMORIES OF FANCY.
This fairy vision gladdens us no more,As in our days of boyhood;—it is gone,
The glory which in fancy's eye it wore,
The crown of spiritual semblance it put on,—
The lustre and the holy tenderness,—
Appealing, as it were, to glimmering ties,
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Because beyond our memory's reach it lies.
And yet, even now, these mellow smiles of light,—
That sad and sinking star—these silent woods,
Sprinkled with gleams, that, as we gaze, take flight—
Wake strange, sad thoughts, and still superior moods,
And in the eyes that once they filled with joy,
Tears gather,—and the man is twice the boy!
| Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies | |