Recollections of Childhood
Souvenirs d'enfance.
O scenes, where Hope my playmate was of yore!
At more than fifty, you again I hail:
Tokens of childhood can our youth restore,
As life feels freshened by Spring's balmy gale.
Hail to you, hail, friends of my youthful age,
Kinsmen, whom oft my grateful heart hath blest:
Thanks to your kindness, in the tempest's rage,
Poor little bird, 'twas here I found a nest.
That narrow prison I must see again,
Where — whilst his niece in budding beauty grew —
O'er us the old schoolmaster used to reign,
Proud that he taught us more than e'er he knew.
Here, more than once, apprentice was I made;
Ever, alas! to idle ways I turned:
But when they taught me the great Franklin's trade,
I deemed that I a sage's name had earned.
Age at which Friendship, pure and thriving, grows —
Soil, that a hopeful morning robes in green:
Thence springs a tree, that oft till evening's close
Yields — as we march — a staff on which to lean.
O scenes, where Hope my playmate was of yore!
At more than fifty, you again I hail:
Tokens of childhood can our youth restore,
As life feels freshened by Spring's balmy gale.
'Twas in these walls that, on disastrous days,
The boom of hostile cannon to me came;
Here hath my voice, attuned to festal lays,
Been heard full oft to lisp my country's name.
Here of my sabots was the weight forgot
By dreaming soul, that soared on dove-like wings:
To feel Heaven's thunderbolt was here my lot —
Making me heed but little that of kings!
Beneath this humble roof my Reason woke,
'Gainst Fate to arm herself, returning here
To laugh at Glory — wreath of transient smoke —
That to our eyes, like smoke, will bring the tear.
Kindred, and friends, who saw my life's young dreams —
Objects of love, that Time but knitteth stronger —
Yes, yes, my cradle still attractive seems,
Though she, who rocked it, rocks it now no longer.
O scenes, where Hope my playmate was of yore!
At more than fifty, you again I hail:
Tokens of childhood can our youth restore,
As life feels freshened by Spring's balmy gale.
O scenes, where Hope my playmate was of yore!
At more than fifty, you again I hail:
Tokens of childhood can our youth restore,
As life feels freshened by Spring's balmy gale.
Hail to you, hail, friends of my youthful age,
Kinsmen, whom oft my grateful heart hath blest:
Thanks to your kindness, in the tempest's rage,
Poor little bird, 'twas here I found a nest.
That narrow prison I must see again,
Where — whilst his niece in budding beauty grew —
O'er us the old schoolmaster used to reign,
Proud that he taught us more than e'er he knew.
Here, more than once, apprentice was I made;
Ever, alas! to idle ways I turned:
But when they taught me the great Franklin's trade,
I deemed that I a sage's name had earned.
Age at which Friendship, pure and thriving, grows —
Soil, that a hopeful morning robes in green:
Thence springs a tree, that oft till evening's close
Yields — as we march — a staff on which to lean.
O scenes, where Hope my playmate was of yore!
At more than fifty, you again I hail:
Tokens of childhood can our youth restore,
As life feels freshened by Spring's balmy gale.
'Twas in these walls that, on disastrous days,
The boom of hostile cannon to me came;
Here hath my voice, attuned to festal lays,
Been heard full oft to lisp my country's name.
Here of my sabots was the weight forgot
By dreaming soul, that soared on dove-like wings:
To feel Heaven's thunderbolt was here my lot —
Making me heed but little that of kings!
Beneath this humble roof my Reason woke,
'Gainst Fate to arm herself, returning here
To laugh at Glory — wreath of transient smoke —
That to our eyes, like smoke, will bring the tear.
Kindred, and friends, who saw my life's young dreams —
Objects of love, that Time but knitteth stronger —
Yes, yes, my cradle still attractive seems,
Though she, who rocked it, rocks it now no longer.
O scenes, where Hope my playmate was of yore!
At more than fifty, you again I hail:
Tokens of childhood can our youth restore,
As life feels freshened by Spring's balmy gale.
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