Classic Poem

And do not think that childhood's love
Has waned with years advancing:-
Ah do not hold thy sweetness less,
Thy presence less entrancing!

And do not dream my silence tells
A tale of lost affection:
That absence hides the conscious shame
Of recreant recollection.

The mother sees the child she lost
Thro' nightlong watches weeping:-
I find none other like to thee
Thro' waking or thro' sleeping.

And, heart-hid from the lips, thy name
On Love's fond sighs is nearest;
The dear dear face I may not see
For evermore the dearest.