William Lisle Bowles

On Leaving Winchester School

THE SPRING shall visit thee again,
Itchin! and yonder ancient fane,
That casts its shadow on thy breast,
    As if, by many winters beat,
    The blooming season it would greet,
With many a straggling wild-flower shall be dressed.

But I amid the youthful train
    That stray at evening by thy side,
No longer shall a guest remain
    To mark the spring’s reviving pride.
I go not unrejoicing; but who knows
When I have shared, O world! thy common woes,
Returning I may drop some natural tears;
    As these same fields I look around,
    And hear from yonder dome the slow bell sound,
And think upon the joys that crowned my stripling years!