TO THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD IN SORROW
I CAME.
I
To the home of my childhood in sorrow I came,
And I fondly expected to find it the same—
Full of sunshine and joy, as I thought it to be
In the days when the world was all sunshine to me:
Those scenes were unalter'd by time, and I stood
Looking down on the village half hid by the wood;
That happy abode, where I us'd to possess
A father's affection, a mother's caress.
II
To others those scenes are as bright as before,
But I can rejoice in their brightness no more;
I stand in the home of my childhood alone,
For the friends of my childhood are all of them gone:
'Twas joy shar'd by others—the laugh and the jest
That gave to this spot all the charms it possess'd;
And here the remembrance oppresses me most,
Of all I once valued—of all I have lost.
III
How vain was my pray'r, that the place might retain
Its delights—if I e'er should behold it again!
Those who made it delightful no longer are near,
And loneliness seems so unnatural here.
Thus he who in age in a ball-room has been,
Where in youth his gay spirit gave life to the scene,
Is sad, though the scene is unchang'd,—and to him
The dance must be cheerless, the brilliancy dim.
IV
Oh! where are the scenes, ever happy and new,
And the eye with felicity always in view,
And the juvenile thoughtlessness, laughing at fear,
Which reign'd in my bosom when last I was here?
And where are the hopes that I us'd to enjoy,
The hopes of a light-hearted spirited boy;
When the present and past had as little of gloom
As I then thought of finding in moments to come?
