LONG AGO.
I
We were children together! Oh brighter than mine
Are the eyes that are looking their love on you now;
And nobler than I are the maidens that twine
The scarf for your breast, and the wreath for your brow.
Be happy, my brother, wherever you will;
Good speed to your courser, good luck to your bow;
But will you not—will you not think of me still,
As you thought of me once,—long ago—long ago?
II
We were children together! I know you will dream
Of the rock and the valley, the cottage and tree,
Of the bird on the brake, of the boat on the stream,
Of the book and the lute, of my roses and me:
When Pleasure deceives you, and young Hope departs,
And the pulse of Ambition beats weary and low,
My brother—my brother—come back to our hearts;
Let us be what we were,—long ago—long ago!
August, 1832.
