17.06.2007, 13:55
June 3
Alas! it may not be; I am forbid
By a stern duty, and my feet must press,
Day after day, in toil and weariness,
The city’s streets; while in my heart is hid
Strange, passionate yearnings for a brighter spot.
My childhood’s home is stealing on my sight;
In native loveliness all unforgot,
Fancy reveals it. Well I know the blight
Of time has dimmed its beauty; yet to me
It ever rises with the summer day,
Decked by thy hand in fair and fresh array;
And on its verdant slopes I long to be
A happy child, as careless and as gay,
As erst in thy bright reign I laughed the hours away.
Alas! it may not be; I am forbid
By a stern duty, and my feet must press,
Day after day, in toil and weariness,
The city’s streets; while in my heart is hid
Strange, passionate yearnings for a brighter spot.
My childhood’s home is stealing on my sight;
In native loveliness all unforgot,
Fancy reveals it. Well I know the blight
Of time has dimmed its beauty; yet to me
It ever rises with the summer day,
Decked by thy hand in fair and fresh array;
And on its verdant slopes I long to be
A happy child, as careless and as gay,
As erst in thy bright reign I laughed the hours away.