Lamoille newsdealer. [volume] (Hyde Park, Vt.) 1860-1877, 1862-11-21
WHEN 1 WAS YOUNG.

,
g2oamed Ger the hills and woodland wild,
And in those haunts, knew every nook,
And every eddy in the brook!
Long back, look through hopes and fears,
Through the dim, shadowy mist of years,
And on the distant landscape view
The silver drops of morning dew,
Like pearl-drops on the leaflets hung;
Such were my HOPES when | was young.
Like sudden showers of summer rain,
Which dash against the window-pane,
Or vesper-dew, that dries away
Before the suns bright morning ray
Fen quicker than from earth it sprang-
Such were my GRIEFs when | was young.
Young hopes and griefs, like sun and showers
Pass quickly as liie's fleeting hours;
But there's boon to nature given,
Which from the heart may ne'er be riven
'Tis the affections, which are flung
Round things we love- when we are young.
This gift to childhood never dies
The love of friends-of things we prize;
But in the souls most bitter strife,
When friends prove false in after life,
The yearning heart has fondly chung
To those we loved when we were young.
How oft the mind goes rushing back
Far DER Times long, extended track,
To where we spent life's morning hours
To rocks and hills, to brooks and flowers,
TO woodland groves, where, kneeling there,
We learned to lisp our evening prayer.
On memorys page trace each spot
That lay around my fathers cot ;
Each shrub and plant in turn view
Two trees which near the gateway grew
The damask rose, which raised its head
Above the violet's lowly bed.
There stands the ancient poplar tree,
How many charms it had for me;
The leaves, which trembed in the air,
The little birds, that warble there,
The motely boughs, on which we swung,
An had their charms, when was young.
But most of all loved the brook,
It's every winding turn and crook,
The spot where once we crossed 1T DER
To gather pebbles on the shore,
Or pluck the cherries, which o'erhung
The rivers edge, when was young.
Twas here the waters dance along
With quckened speed and merry song,
Until with white and foaming crest,
Beneath the bridge they pause to rest
Here in their curtained bed they lie,
While wavelets chant their lullaby.
Not far from hGme schoolhouse stood,
Just up the road, close by the wood,
Twas there first was taught to read,
And to the ferule pay due heed
For moral suasion had no tongue
To teach the youth, when l was young.
And now. in dreams often see
My childhood home, so dear to me,
Or in that schoolhouse intent
Am on some puzzllng lesson bent
Old friends to whom I've ever clung,
Are with me there-and am young.
wake, but oh what change see,
Instead of young, I'm forty-three.
But do sigh with grief and pain
Sigh to live DER those years again
Would | with children be among?
Would myself again be young?
In my experience day by day
SO lightly to be thrown away,
And is the wisdom have gained
From childish sports to be obtained?
No wisdom's oft from suffering wrung
Few can be wise and yet be young.
Then who would change for childish breath
A heart resigned in view of death,
Or who that's felt aflliction's rod,
And thus been closer drawn to God,
Wouid ever WIN laiteIihS tohBue'
Complain, that they'll no more be young.
Disease, that tyrant of our land,
Hath on me laid a heavy hand
And when his chains, I'm forced to wear
And others must my burdens bear,
'Tis then ] feel my nerves unstrung,
And wish that / again was yonng,
That was young? Oh | shall be,
When have crossed that dark, rough sea
When | have reached the other shore,
And joined the loved ones gone before
When we've our harps together strung,