Poems of James Clarence Mangan (Many hitherto uncollected): Centenary edition: Edited, with preface and notes by D. J. O'Donoghue: Introduction by John Mitchel |
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CHILDHOOD. |
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 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
CHILDHOOD.
And where is now the golden hour
When Earth was as a fairy realm,
When Fancy revelled
Within her own enchanted bower,
Which Sorrow came to overwhelm,
Which Reason levelled;
When Life was new and Hope was young,
And sought and saw no other chart
Than rose where'er
We turned—the crystal joy that sprung
Up from the ever-bubbling heart?
O! tell us where!
When Earth was as a fairy realm,
When Fancy revelled
Within her own enchanted bower,
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Which Reason levelled;
When Life was new and Hope was young,
And sought and saw no other chart
Than rose where'er
We turned—the crystal joy that sprung
Up from the ever-bubbling heart?
O! tell us where!
Man, like the leaf that swims the wave,
A wanderer down that rushing river
Whose torchless shore
Is spectre-peopled from the grave,
Can scarce, amid his whirl and fever
Of soul, explore
The treasures infant-bosoms cherish;
Yet feelings of celestial birth
To these are given,
Whose Iris hues, too deep to perish,
Surviving Life, outlasting Earth,
Shall glow in Heaven.
A wanderer down that rushing river
Whose torchless shore
Is spectre-peopled from the grave,
Can scarce, amid his whirl and fever
Of soul, explore
The treasures infant-bosoms cherish;
Yet feelings of celestial birth
To these are given,
Whose Iris hues, too deep to perish,
Surviving Life, outlasting Earth,
Shall glow in Heaven.
I see thy willow-darkened stream,
Thy sunny lake, thy sunless grove,
Before me glassed
In many a dimly-gorgeous dream,
And wake to love, to doubly love
The magic Past!
Or Fiction lifts her dazzling wand,
And lo! her buried wonders rise
On Slumber's view,
Till all Arabia's genii-land
Shines out, the mimic Paradise
Thy pencil drew!
Thy sunny lake, thy sunless grove,
Before me glassed
In many a dimly-gorgeous dream,
And wake to love, to doubly love
The magic Past!
Or Fiction lifts her dazzling wand,
And lo! her buried wonders rise
On Slumber's view,
Till all Arabia's genii-land
Shines out, the mimic Paradise
Thy pencil drew!
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Youth burns: we run the blind career
Which they who run but run to rue;
Too fleetly flies
The witchery of that maddening year;
Yet will we not the track pursue
Where Wisdom lies,
For Manhood lours, and all the cares
And toils and ills of Manhood born
Consume the soul,
Till withered Age's whitened hairs,
The symbols of his Winter, warn
Us to the goal.
Which they who run but run to rue;
Too fleetly flies
The witchery of that maddening year;
Yet will we not the track pursue
Where Wisdom lies,
For Manhood lours, and all the cares
And toils and ills of Manhood born
Consume the soul,
Till withered Age's whitened hairs,
The symbols of his Winter, warn
Us to the goal.
But thou, lost vision! Memory clings
To all of bright and pure and fond
By thee enrolled!
Mementos as of times and things
Antique, remote, far, far beyond
The Flood of old!
Yet oh! the spell itself how brief!
How sadly brief! how swiftly broken!
We witness how
The freshness of the lily's leaf
Ere Autumn dies, and leaves no token—
And where art thou?
To all of bright and pure and fond
By thee enrolled!
Mementos as of times and things
Antique, remote, far, far beyond
The Flood of old!
Yet oh! the spell itself how brief!
How sadly brief! how swiftly broken!
We witness how
The freshness of the lily's leaf
Ere Autumn dies, and leaves no token—
And where art thou?
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |