Lines on Leaving the River Cart O SCENES of my childhood, and dear to my heart, Ye green-waving woods on the banks of the Cart! How oft in the morning of life I have strayed By the stream of the vale and the grass-covered glade! Then, then, every rapture was young and sincere, Ere the sunshine of life had been dimmed by a tear; And a sweeter delight every scene seemed to lend — That the mansion of peace was the home of a friend. Now the scenes of my childhood, and dear to my heart, All pensive I visit, and sigh to depart, Their flowers seem to languish, their beauty to cease, For a stranger inhabits the mansion of peace! But hushed be the sigh that untimely complains While friendship with all its enchantment remains — While it blooms like the flower of a winterless clime, Untainted by change, unabated by time! |
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