Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/99

Rh

With smiles they urge me to recall
 * The memory of their childhood's prime,

For they were happy children all
 * When last I left my native clime;

But as they speak some cherished trait
 * Arises with each look and tone,

Of those whose love has past away,
 * Of those who are for ever gone.

I wander on the breezy hill,
 * By hazel copse, in dingle green,

I pause beside the gushing rill,
 * When summer twilight sings serene;

Each well-remembered scene is there
 * Fresh as when first it met my sight,

But where are all the feelings, where.
 * Which made it still more dear than bright?

The harvest moon is rising now
 * O'er glorious fields of ripened grain.

And on the breeze that cools my brow
 * The bells of many a harvest wain

Come soft and sweet; but sweeter yet
 * Yon spire on which the moonshine glows.

That tells me where I shall forget
 * Life's toils and hopes in death's repose.