CHILDHOOD.
269
Than those, but scattered here and there
They bloom, and far apart;
I scarce know where to find them,
I can never hope again
Within one knot to bind them,
As I did so often then.
Soon told were childhood's treasures—
The childish world was small,
But its wonders and its pleasures
Were its own—it held them all!
They bloom, and far apart;
I scarce know where to find them,
I can never hope again
Within one knot to bind them,
As I did so often then.
Soon told were childhood's treasures—
The childish world was small,
But its wonders and its pleasures
Were its own—it held them all!
Once, in a mansion, looking
Upon that garden fair.
Was a wide and pleasant parlour.
And an eastward bedroom; there
As on my little bed I lay
Before my half-shut eyes
Danced dreams of pleasure, that the morn
Was sure to realize;
When the sun knocked at my window,
And to give him entrance free
I sprung, because he never came
Without some gift for me!
Still night brings visions round my bed
As sweet but not so true.
And still the morning comes with gifts,
But now they are not new;
So I cry not now "To-morrow's come!"
My spirit, less elate,
Upon that garden fair.
Was a wide and pleasant parlour.
And an eastward bedroom; there
As on my little bed I lay
Before my half-shut eyes
Danced dreams of pleasure, that the morn
Was sure to realize;
When the sun knocked at my window,
And to give him entrance free
I sprung, because he never came
Without some gift for me!
Still night brings visions round my bed
As sweet but not so true.
And still the morning comes with gifts,
But now they are not new;
So I cry not now "To-morrow's come!"
My spirit, less elate,
