Poems of "Frank Forester" (Henry William Herbert)

Back to my days of boyhood! Fresh and fair
Again they spring before my age-dimmed eyes,
With skies of blue, bright earth and balmy air,
All choral with heaven's sweetest melodies.
My heart is young again! It leaps to life,
As leaped the Genoese to gain the shore
Of his new world; and memories thick and rife
With pleasure float before me: yet once more
I clasp them in my senses' eager fold,
And dream this heart can never all grow old.

The very sense of being was a joy,
Deep thrilling in its own self-made delight;
The visible world a fair and painted toy,
Played with all day and dreamed about all night;
The fresh young world within the breast, a scene
Peopled with beauty, thronged with shapes of grace,
With hopes all sunshine, and with memories green,
That bloomed within their pleasant dwelling-place.
No serpent doubt, no fear, nor carking care;
The very Eden of the heart was there.

Then would I roam alone the whole day long,
Companioned by some gay fantastic dream,
Listening the free bird's wild melodious song
In the deep woods; or by the sunny stream,
In innocent excitement watch the quill
Dimpling the surface of the waters clear
At eager bite of sunfish, perch, or brill,
Till the broad sun the mountain tops did near:

For naught of guilt of gloom had then the power
With shadowy clouds to dim one happy hour.

And thou, fair child, who sit'st, as I of yore,
In those sweet days that never must return,
A thoughtless angler by the silent shore,—
Thou too must feel thy bosom throb and burn
With those fierce visitants that make their nest
In every human heart—love, hate, and woe:
Thou too must gaze, with seared and callous breast,
On all that once seemed beautiful below;
Must pant for bliss, yet panting find it not;
Must live for joy, while grief is still your lot.

University of Virginia Library

THE FISHER-BOY.