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A RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW.
Oh, when I was a tiny boy
My mates were blithe and kind ! No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye,
To cast a look behind !
A hoop was an eternal round
A top a joyous thing ;-
And careful thoughts the string !
My marbles-once my bag was stored, -
With Theseus for a taw!
And harness'd to the law !
My kite—how fast and far it flew !
My pleasure from the sky! 'Twas paper'd o'er with studious themes, The tasks I wrote—my present dreams
Will never soar so high!
My joys are wingless all and dead;
My flights soon find a fall;
And seldom with a call!
My football's laid upon the shelf;
The world knocks to and fro ;-
My arrows and my bow!
No more in noontide sun I bask;
My head's ne'er out of school :
And friends grown strangely cool !
The very chum that shared my cake
It makes me shrink and sigh :
Though these should meet his eye!
No skies so blue or so serene
As clothed the play.ground tree!
That change resides in me!
Oh, for the garb that mark'd the boy,
Well ink'd with black and red;
Repose upon my head !
Oh, for the riband round the neck!
My book and collar both!
A boy of larger growth?
Oh, for that small, small beer anew!
That wash'd my sweet meals down;
That faggd me!-worse is now my work
A fag for all the town!
Oh, for the lessons learn’d by heart !
Should mark those hours again ;
Some sugar in the cane!
The Arabian Nights rehearsed in bed !
By stealth, 'twixt verb and noun !
Exactly like Miss Brown!
The omne bene—Christmas come!
Merit had prizes then!
Without the silver pen!
Then home, sweet home! the crowded coach-
The winding horns like rams'!
No .satis' to the “jams !'