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A REMEMBRANCE. 187 |
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As we drew round him where an old oak spread
Its arms on high, He bade us list a tale of years gone by.
" Brightly like yours," he said, " my early days
Pass'd swiftly on; Hope, hope was mingling with the prosp'rous rays
Which round me shone, But now I am a wand'rer, wretched, lone.
" At manhood's dawn I left my peaceful home,
My father's hearth, A restless wand'rer after wealth to roam
O'er half the earth, Deeming home's quiet scenes of little worth.
" How well I recollect the panting strife •
Of my young heart, The wish to mingle in the storm of life,
The busy mart, Resolv'd on mammon's stage to act my part.
" How perfectly do I remember too
That mild, sweet eve, When, with ambition burning on my brow,
I took my leave Of that calm home, nor even thought to grieve. |
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