Bloomington herald. [volume] (Bloomington, I. T. [Iowa]) 1840-1849, 1841-01-22
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It yendr grove it, caarent bsinsss
Elsys On theSlope swhis, and Tim
Goes prntt:ins inlo gsoves again,
Of to il wsrbliDg walters drew
~ little fect when liis ~as new,
VIXEN woods ii carly green wsre dres5d,
Md from IL rhSmbsnof the west
The warmer bfteesss travelling ont,
Breathed the new scent pf flowers about
My truant sseps from home would stray,
Upon it, gre6sy ade 70 play,
List the brown thrasher's vernal hymn,
And crop the violet on its brim,
With blooming cheek and open brow,
Az young and gay, sweet rill, as thou.
And when the days Of boyhood came,
And ! had grown in love with fame,
Daily I sought thy banks, and tried
Ny first rude numbers by thy side.
Words cannot tell how bright and gay
The scenes Of life before me lay.
Then glorious hopes, that now 10 speak
Would bring the blood into my cheek,
Pass'd DER me and l wrote on high,
A name deem'd should never die.
Years change thee not Upon yon hill
The tall old naples, verdant still,
Yet tell, in grandeur Of decay,
How swift the years have pass'd away,
Since first child, and half afraid,
wandered in the forest shade,
Thou, ever joyous rivulet
Dost dimple, leap, and prattlc yet;
And sporting with the sands that pave
The windings of thy silver wave,
And dancing to thy own wild chime,
Thou laughest at the lapse Of time.
The same sweet sounds are in my ear
Ny early childhood loved to hear;
As pure thy limpid waters run,
Az brightly they sparkle to the sun;
As fresh and thick the bending ranks
Of herds that line thy oozy banks;
The violet there, in soft May dew,
Comes up, as modest and as blue;
Asgrecn amidst the currents stress,
Floats the scarcc-rooted watercress;
And the brown ground-bird in thy glen,
Still chirps as merrily as then.
Thou changest not-but am changed,
Since first thy pleasant banks / ranged;
And the grave stranger come to see
The play-place Of his infancy,
Has scarce single trace Of him,
Who sported once upon thy brim,
The visions Of my youth are past
Too bright, too beautiful to last.
I've tried the world-it wears no more
The coloron of romance then it wore,
Yet well has nature kept the truth
She promised to my earliest youth,
The radiant beauty shed abroad
On the glorious works Of God,
Shows plainly to my sobered eye,
Each charm it wore in days gone by.
A few brief years shall pass away,
And |, al trembling, weak, and gray,
Bowed to the earth, which wants to fold
My ashes in the embracing mould,
(lf haply the dark will Of fate,
Indulge my life so long date,)
May come for the last time to look
Upon my childhoods farorite brook.
Then dimly on my eye shall CLEAN
The sparkle Of thy dancing stream;
And family on my ear shall fail
Thy praitling currents merry call;
Yet shalt thou flow as CLAN and bright
As when thou met'st my infant sight.
And shah sleep-and on thy side,
As ages after ages glide,
Children their early sports shall try,
And pass to hoary age and die.
But thou, unchangd from year to year,
Gaily shall play and glitter here;
Amid young flowers and tender grass
Thy endless infancy shall pass;
And singing down thy narrow glen,
Shall mood the fading race of men.