 | Lays of Leisure Hours |  |
99
THE YOUTH OF THE SOUL.
Memory! I turn to thee—to thee,Beloved consoler—Memory!
And think of those lost lovely years,
And not without fast-gushing tears,
When in serene and sweet repose
My soul within me sprang and rose
And soared into the Heavens above,
Sustained by Innocence and Love!
Nor soared its own glad self alone
Above the Sun's triumphal throne,
(In those dear days, whose memory, even,
Strong consolation oft hath given!)
But bore with it unto the Skies
Its hopes and trusts—its loves and joys,
Its sweet affections and its dreams,
Its visions and its cherished schemes,
100
And all—except its little griefs!
Bore with it all it loved and knew,
(That caught its own Celestial hue)—
Familiar and accustomed things,
That soared with it on soaring wings;
Aye! bore its World with it above,
Made strong through faith and strong through love,
Bade its own World with it arise,
And grow a portion of the skies!
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