 | Morning Songs |  |
47
SCENES OF LIFE.
As fade the evening twilight,
Far in yon gleaming west,
And the plowman, and the reaper,
Homeward-bound, to seek their rest.
Far in yon gleaming west,
And the plowman, and the reaper,
Homeward-bound, to seek their rest.
Fades my childhood days, and fancies,
Fades the vision of a child,
Fades the fairy tales and fictions,
Once my childish thought beguiled.
Fades the vision of a child,
Fades the fairy tales and fictions,
Once my childish thought beguiled.
Midst rare scenes of vanished fancies,
Still remains in memory bright,
There are visions which enhances,
Still to me a childish light.
Still remains in memory bright,
There are visions which enhances,
Still to me a childish light.
Oft they shine o'er man's dominion,
One brief instant then are flown,
Like the condor on his pinions,
Mounts to summits scarcely known.
One brief instant then are flown,
Like the condor on his pinions,
Mounts to summits scarcely known.
Soon the youthful might and valor,
Of this form shall lose its sway,
Soon these eyes shall faintly glimmer,
And this head be bent and gray.
Of this form shall lose its sway,
Soon these eyes shall faintly glimmer,
And this head be bent and gray.
48
Still among time's vast procession,
March the multitude so brave,
Page, and sage of mark profession,
Seeking but the solemn grave.
March the multitude so brave,
Page, and sage of mark profession,
Seeking but the solemn grave.
Day by day in this procession,
I am pressing towards the van,
While the fading days of childhood,
Change my youthful form to man.
I am pressing towards the van,
While the fading days of childhood,
Change my youthful form to man.
So I'm pressed from man's dominion,
Through the scenes of joy and gloom,
'Till I mount death's direful pinions,
Aged infirmed, a silent tomb.
Through the scenes of joy and gloom,
'Till I mount death's direful pinions,
Aged infirmed, a silent tomb.
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