Classic Poem

Lost spirit of the past! when summer skies
Of former years were spread o'er thee, a child;
And thou wert seen in sunny day, by eyes
That left the light before thine own, all wild
And joyful in thy village fields, beguil'd
By summer flow'rs, or circling butterflies;
And thy young face, in quick succession, smil'd
And wept; ere yet thy tender soul was wise

In worldly care. Oh! in the waking dream
That holds my fancy when I think of thee,
As I behold thee in the sultry gleam

Of noon, or milder evening, gay and free;
How bright and happy, o'er all we can see,
Those fancied seasons of thy childhood seem.