Poem by Washington Allston

Boyhood

AH, then how sweetly closed those crowded days!
The minutes parting one by one like rays,
    That fade upon a summer's eve. 
But O, what charm or magic numbers
Can give me back the gentle slumbers
    Those weary, happy days did leave? 
When by my bed I saw my mother kneel,
    And with her blessing took her nightly kiss; 
    Whatever Time destroys, he cannot this;-- 
E'en now that nameless kiss I feel. 

1. Sonnet. On seeing the Picture of Æolus by Peligrino Tibaldi, in the Institute at Bologna
2. Sonnet. To My Venerable Friend, the President of the Royal Academy
3. Sonnet. On the Group of the Three Angels before the Tent of Abraham, by Raffaelle, in the Vatican
4. Myrtilla
5. Sonnet. On a Falling Group in the Last Judgement of Michael Angelo, in the Cappella Sistina

Madison Cawein Boyhood ("O Days that hold us; and years that mold us!")

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