Poems (McDonald)/The Old Album
THE OLD ALBUM.
I've drawn thee from thy hiding-place, Relic of by-gone days, Again thy gilded leaves to trace, Thy well-known garb to praise; To bring thee to the glaring light, From out thy silent nook;—Come, tell old tales of moments bright, Thou long-neglected book!
How well I know thy crimson coat, So garnished o'er with gold ! And half with sorrow, half with smiles, The tarnished robe behold. And fondly I recall the hour, When first I saw thee lie Affection's gift, all glossy bright, Beneath my 'raptured eye.
And first, the faded lines I trace, Penned by a gentle hand; They bring to me the fairest face That graced a youthful band. Sweet play-mate of my earlier years— Companion of the past!Thou hast forgot thy life of tears, In happier realms at last!
Again I turn the rustling leaf: Who comes before me now, With the light heart that mocked at grief— The fair, unclouded brow;
The eye that flashed with Passion's ray, Unalterably bright?—How changed!—long years have stolen away That wild, fantastic light.
Ha! my gay cousin!—thou whose mirth Was never on the wane!I read thy sonnet, till I deem Thou'rt by my side again, With thy wild laughter ringing free, Thy sly and merry air!That time is gone; thy manly brow A graver look doth wear.
What fairy fingers held the pen That traced this dainty page?It bears the date of other years, And seems quite pale with age. Ah ! I remember me of one Just then become a bride; She smiles a careful matron now, With prattlers at her side.
And here is writ a blithesome song, And here a tender lay; This page is sad enough, I ween, And this one passing gay. And here a youthful poet's hand Placed the sweet rhymes he wove The truant!—in a foreign land He sought another love.
Thou mak'st me sad, thou gilded toy! And as I gaze on thee, I think how time and change have thrown Their shadows over me: The flush of youth has vanished now, Friends severed far and wide; In curls that wave on many a brow, Time's silvery foot-marks hide.
Go back then to thy silent nook, Memento of the past!Thou tell'st a tale, my much-loved book, Of years that flew too fast; And read'st a lesson to my heart, Perused full oft before: That hopes must fade, and friends must part, Till Life's dark day is o'er.