 | Poems |  |
53
[“Much on my early youth I love to dwell,”]
“Much on my early youth I love to dwell,”
When by my father's side, a stripling boy,
I paced with steps unequal; fain to tell
Of some new-practised game, some new-bought toy.
When by my father's side, a stripling boy,
I paced with steps unequal; fain to tell
Of some new-practised game, some new-bought toy.
How oft with bliss, which later days deny,
My prattling tongue its story would repeat!
Bounding beneath his tender smile, how high
With blameless pride my filial heart would beat!
My prattling tongue its story would repeat!
Bounding beneath his tender smile, how high
With blameless pride my filial heart would beat!
O for those hours of extasy again,
Which thus on life's sweet prime their lustre shed!
The radiant season I invite in vain,
With second beam to gild this orphan head:
Which thus on life's sweet prime their lustre shed!
The radiant season I invite in vain,
With second beam to gild this orphan head:
It comes not twice. Nor boots it to repine;
I with his ashes soon may mingle mine.
I with his ashes soon may mingle mine.
| Poems | |