The spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1840-1844, 1842-05-06
0cetrD.
Ti.E EIVULET.


THIS little rill, that, iiom tho springs
OF yonder grove, lis current brings
Plays on the slope awhile, and then
Goes prattling into groves again,
Oft to its waTblin5 waters drew
hIy little feet, when life WAS new.
When woods in early green were drest,
lnc from the chrmbars Of the west
The warmer breeZCs travelling out,
Breaihed the new scent nI flowers about,
Ny ruant steps from home would stray,
Upon its grassy side TO play,
List the brown ihrnsher's vernal hymn,
And crop the violet on its brim,
With blooming cheek and open brow,
AS young and gay, sweet ril, as thou.
And when the days of boyhaol came,
And had grown in love with fame,
Duly sought thy banks, and tried
My first rude numbers by thy side.
Words canno, tell how bright and gay
The scenes of life around me lay.
Then glorious hopes, that now to speak,
Would bring the blood into my cheek,
Pissed Ger me; and wrote on high
A name deemed shonld never die.
Years change thee not, Upon yon hill
The tall old naples, vnrdart still,
Yet tell, in grandeur of decay,
How swift the years have pissed away.
Since first, child, aud half ulraid,
| wandered in the forest shade.
Thou, ever joyous rivulet,
Dost dinplc, leap, and prattle yet;
al ,pNr,ir,., ,,irl IN, sands that prvn
The windings of thy silver wave,
And dancing 10 Thy own wild chime,
Thou laughest at the lapse oftime,
The same sweet sounds are in my eur
NY early childhood loved to hear;
As pure thy Iimpd waters run,
As bright they sparkle to the sun;
As fresh and thick the bending ranks
OF herbs TINT line thy ooZv banks;
The violet there, ia soft May dew,
Cones up, as modes, and as blue;
As green amid thy currents stress,
Floats the scarce rooted water cress;
And the brown ground bird, in thy glen,
Still chrps us megrily us then.
Thou clmngast not--but lam changed,
Since first thy pleasant banks | ranged
And the grave stranger, come 10 see
The puy-p!ace of his infancy,
Has scarce single trace Of him
Who sporied once upon thy bri!n.
The visions Of my youth are past
Too bright, too beautiful to last.
I've tried the worId--it wears no mere
The cooring Of romance it wore,
Yet we'll has nature kept the truth
She promised to my earliest youth;
The radiant beauty shed abroad
On all the glorious works 1f Cod,
Shows freshly, to my sobeled eye,
Each Charm il wore in days gone by.
A few brief years shall pass away,
And |, II trembling, weak, md gray,
Bowed to the earth, which waits to fold
Ny ashes in the embracing mould,
or hnply the dark will Of fate
Indulgcd my life so long a dato,)
May come for the last time 10 look
Upon my chilhood's iavOre brook.
Then dmly on my eye shall gloum
The sparklc of Thy dancing stream;
And family on my cal shall fall
Thy prattIng currents merry call;
YET shalt thou flow as glad and bright
A when thou meist my infant sight.
And | shall slecp-and on thy side,
A. ages after ages glide,
Children their early sports shall try;
And pass to houry nga and die.
Eut thou unchngnod from year 10 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 mock the fading race of men,