Classic Poem

O when, in happy dreams of silent night,
My soul roams back to some sweet youthful scene,
Annihilating all the years between
My present sorrow and my past delight,
How lovely then appear before my sight
In youthful mirth, and with their youthful mien,
My early friends, no longer to be seen
When dream-dispelling morning brings its light.

Come shades of evening, brood around my bed,
Allaying all the sorrows of the day,
And wakening remembrance of the past;

That I may bask again in summers fled,
And live through joys that time has borne away,
The joys that gath'ring sorrows cannot blast.