Classic Poem

S OFILY careering on the wintry breeze,
Comes the faint music of yon distant bells,
As sad I sit beneath these naked trees,
Whose mournful sobbings sound like Joy's farewells.
Touched by their melody, my full heart swells —
The cloudy future, and the happy past
Around me come, till retrospection dwells
With vain regret on days which could not last
Behold me on the sea of Manhood cast,
Without a chart to guide, or helm to steer;
The constant sport of every adverse blast —
No breeze of hope, no port of shelter near;
But time shall speed me o'er the dangerous wave —
There is no peaceful haven but the grave!