Before me rose an avenue

Of tall and sombrous pines;

Abroad their fan-like branches grew,
And, where the sunshine darted through,
Spread a vapor soft and blue,

In long and sloping lines.

And, falling on my weary brain,
Like a fast-falling shower,

The dreams of youth came back again;
Low lispings of the summer rain,
Dropping on the ripened grain,

At once upon the flower.

13

Visions of childhood! Stay, O stay.

Ye were so sweet and wild!

And distant voices seemed to say, "It cannot be! They pass away! Other themes demand thy lay;

Thou art no more a child!