 | Lyrical and other poems |  |
WHERE ART THOU?
The scenes are bright as former years,
The sky as fair to view,
And all is sweet that youth endears,
To all it ever knew.
The hopes, the joys of childhood live,
In fond re-union now,
But 'midst the blessings life can give,
Where, where, alas! art thou?
The sky as fair to view,
And all is sweet that youth endears,
To all it ever knew.
The hopes, the joys of childhood live,
In fond re-union now,
But 'midst the blessings life can give,
Where, where, alas! art thou?
I've watch'd the mirror'd splendor,
Bright skies around me cast,
Deep blue, carnation tender,
Have been, and now are past.
The eye of ev'ning's flushing,
There's light upon her brow—
Young joys are o'er me rushing—
But where, oh! where art thou?
Bright skies around me cast,
Deep blue, carnation tender,
Have been, and now are past.
The eye of ev'ning's flushing,
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Young joys are o'er me rushing—
But where, oh! where art thou?
I've wander'd far and lonely,
One hope was mine alone,
The hope that bless'd me only
When other hopes had gone—
That thou, my own, still cherish'd,
For me youth's early glow,
That hope alas! has perish'd,
And what can glad me now?
One hope was mine alone,
The hope that bless'd me only
When other hopes had gone—
That thou, my own, still cherish'd,
For me youth's early glow,
That hope alas! has perish'd,
And what can glad me now?
I fled, and left thee weeping,
Mine eyes too, were not dry,
And feeling ne'er was sleeping,
As memory wander'd by;
Pourtraying all those hours,
Of calm and halcyon glow,
When life reposed on flow'rs,
And pleasure smoothed his brow!
Mine eyes too, were not dry,
And feeling ne'er was sleeping,
As memory wander'd by;
Pourtraying all those hours,
Of calm and halcyon glow,
When life reposed on flow'rs,
And pleasure smoothed his brow!
I came, the hearth was blazing,
As it was wont to burn,
When thro' thy lattice gazing,
Thou'st watch'd for my return:
And thought still fondly dreaming,
Beheld thy form e'en now—
I gaze—the moon is beaming,
But where, alas! art thou?
As it was wont to burn,
When thro' thy lattice gazing,
Thou'st watch'd for my return:
And thought still fondly dreaming,
Beheld thy form e'en now—
I gaze—the moon is beaming,
But where, alas! art thou?
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And dead are now thy flow'rs—
They're water'd not by thee,
And they bloom not 'neath the show'rs
Of tears that fall from me;
Such scorching stream o'erpow'rs,
And cannot save the tree!
There was a dream—this token
But tells its early glow—
There was a heart—'tis broken—
Oh! where, alas! art thou?
They're water'd not by thee,
And they bloom not 'neath the show'rs
Of tears that fall from me;
Such scorching stream o'erpow'rs,
And cannot save the tree!
There was a dream—this token
But tells its early glow—
There was a heart—'tis broken—
Oh! where, alas! art thou?
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