University of Virginia Library

TO BAYARD TAYLOR.

[I. What changes of our natures have not been]

What changes of our natures have not been,
In the long process of the many days
That passed while we pursued our different ways,
Lost to each other! Fields, that once were green
Beneath our tillage, have been reaped. The scene
Of our young labors has grown old, and lays
Its dust upon us. Things that won our praise,
Are tasteless quite, and only move our spleen.
Experience has nipped the bloom of youth;
The flattering dawn of life has gone; in vain
We look for visions of the morn. Stern truth
Glares over us, and makes our view too plain.
I'm sick of life's discoveries; in sooth,
I 'd have the falsehoods of our youth again.

[II. The world seems strangely altered to me, friend]

The world seems strangely altered to me, friend,
Since last I pressed my ready hand in thine.
I feel like one awakening after wine—
For many yesterdays have had an end
Since we two met—and drowsy tremors send
A thrill of shame across this heart of mine,
That I my better feelings could confine
In easy opiates, make my spirit bend
To slothful rest,—a drunkard, and no more!
Yet I will rouse me from this lethargy.
The past is past; the dreaming night is o'er;
Heaven's lamp comes beaming from the East on me,
Touching my eyelids to reality,
And all is sunshine that was dark before.