 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
HAUNTS OF MY CHILDHOOD.
Haunts of my Childhood—I retrace once more
Your smiling paths—and make them all mine own;
But now—o'er every scene so bright before,
The shadows of a sorrowing heart are thrown!
Your smiling paths—and make them all mine own;
But now—o'er every scene so bright before,
The shadows of a sorrowing heart are thrown!
All—every thing is changed—the flowers heaped there,
Once made of Sunshine and of Beauty all,
Something of gloom and dimness faintly wear,
And fade—for me, they fade long ere they fall!
Once made of Sunshine and of Beauty all,
Something of gloom and dimness faintly wear,
And fade—for me, they fade long ere they fall!
255
The breezes that of old in Music played,
In lovely Music and in loving Mirth,
Now lend a heavier gloom unto the shade,
Free gales—that pierce all hidden spots of Earth!
In lovely Music and in loving Mirth,
Now lend a heavier gloom unto the shade,
Free gales—that pierce all hidden spots of Earth!
Whence comes the plaintive sadness of their tone,
Each breathes some mournful message ere it part—
Methinks their mournfulness is scarce their own,
Caught from the Echoes of a sighing Heart!
Each breathes some mournful message ere it part—
Methinks their mournfulness is scarce their own,
Caught from the Echoes of a sighing Heart!
They gladly run their fleet, far aëry race,
And wake all Nature with their whispery call,
And rifle every solitary place
Of treasured sweets that else were wasted all!
And wake all Nature with their whispery call,
And rifle every solitary place
Of treasured sweets that else were wasted all!
Winds! ye may pierce Earth's keyless holds, and thence
Draw fragrant treasures that enshrouded lie;
But to the heart, quick, fervid, and intense,
Ye pierce not, save to mingle sigh with sigh!
Draw fragrant treasures that enshrouded lie;
But to the heart, quick, fervid, and intense,
Ye pierce not, save to mingle sigh with sigh!
256
Haunts of my Childhood—ye were ever fair,
But fairer still than ever now you seem,
Despite the mournful gloom you faintly wear,
Seen through the cloud of a departed Dream!
But fairer still than ever now you seem,
Despite the mournful gloom you faintly wear,
Seen through the cloud of a departed Dream!
Never hath Morning lit a spot more dear
When shining forth in all her rosy grace;
Nor Twilight smiled—faint smile most like a tear—
Mysterious—solemn—o'er a lovelier Place.
When shining forth in all her rosy grace;
Nor Twilight smiled—faint smile most like a tear—
Mysterious—solemn—o'er a lovelier Place.
Haunts of my Childhood! ye are far more fair—
More Eloquence is from your Silence won,
Because ye faintly catch and dimly wear
The Shadows—the Echoes of a Heart undone!
More Eloquence is from your Silence won,
Because ye faintly catch and dimly wear
The Shadows—the Echoes of a Heart undone!
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |