 | Impressions of Italy and Other Poems |  |
121
IN FORMER YEARS.
In former years, oh! how did many a dream
Come o'er my brain, to kindle and to bless;
If my heart ached then, buoyed on life's young stream,
It ached but with its far-stretched Hope's excess.
Come o'er my brain, to kindle and to bless;
If my heart ached then, buoyed on life's young stream,
It ached but with its far-stretched Hope's excess.
But now—the heavy difference—now, alas!
It knows to thrill but to the touch of care;
And while the joyless minutes darkening pass,
It aches—the deadly Aching of Despair!
It knows to thrill but to the touch of care;
And while the joyless minutes darkening pass,
It aches—the deadly Aching of Despair!
| Impressions of Italy and Other Poems | |