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YOUNG AMERICA.
I.
t is a boy whom fourteen years have seen,
Smiling, with them, on spring’s returning green,
A bonny boy, with eye-delighting eyes,
Sparkling as stars, and blue as summer’s skies,
With face, like April’s, bright in smiles or tears,
His laugh a song—his step the forest deer’s,
With heart as pure and liberal as the air,
And voice of sweetest tone, and bright gold hair
In thick curls clustering round his even brow,
And dimpled cheek—how calm he slumbers now!
The sentry stars in heaven’s blue above,
Sleep their sweet daybreak sleep, their watch withdrawn,
And lovely as a bride from dream of love,
Blushing and blooming, wakes the summer dawn;
Winds—woods—and waters of the brook and bay
Wake at the fanning of the wings of day,
