 | Miami Woods : a golden wedding and other poems |  |
210
Spring Verses.
How with the song of every bird,
And with the scent of every flow'r,
Some recollection dear is stirr'd
Of many a long-departed hour,
Whose course, though shrouded now in night,
Was traced in lines of golden light!
And with the scent of every flow'r,
Some recollection dear is stirr'd
Of many a long-departed hour,
Whose course, though shrouded now in night,
Was traced in lines of golden light!
I know not if, when years have cast
Their shadows on life's early dreams,
'T is wise to touch the Hope that's past,
And re-illume its fading beams:
But, though the future hath its star,
That olden Hope is dearer far.
Their shadows on life's early dreams,
'T is wise to touch the Hope that's past,
And re-illume its fading beams:
But, though the future hath its star,
That olden Hope is dearer far.
Of all the present, much is bright;
And in the coming years, I see
A brilliant and a cheering light,
Which burns before me constantly,—
Guiding my steps, through haze and gloom,
To where Fame's turrets proudly loom.
And in the coming years, I see
A brilliant and a cheering light,
Which burns before me constantly,—
Guiding my steps, through haze and gloom,
To where Fame's turrets proudly loom.
211
Yet coldly shines it on my brow;
And in my breast it wakes to life
None of the holy feelings now,
With which my boyhood's heart was rife:
It can not touch that secret spring
Which erst made life so bless'd a thing.
And in my breast it wakes to life
None of the holy feelings now,
With which my boyhood's heart was rife:
It can not touch that secret spring
Which erst made life so bless'd a thing.
Give me—then give me birds and flow'rs,
Which are the voice and breath of Spring!
For those the songs of life's young hours
With thrilling touch recall and sing,—
And these, with their sweet breath, impart
Old tales, whose memory warms the heart.
Which are the voice and breath of Spring!
For those the songs of life's young hours
With thrilling touch recall and sing,—
And these, with their sweet breath, impart
Old tales, whose memory warms the heart.
| Miami Woods : a golden wedding and other poems | |