As thus I bend me o'er thy babbling stream And watch thy current, memory's hand portrays The faint-formed scenes of the departed days, Like the far forest by the moon's pale beam Dimly descried, yet lovely. I have worn, Upon thy banks, the livelong hour away, When sportive childhood wantoned through the day, Joyed at the opening splendour of the morn, Or, as the twilight darkened, heaved the sigh, Thinking of distant home; as down my cheek, At the fond thought, slow stealing on, would speak The silent eloquence of the full eye. Dim are the long past days, yet still they please As thy soft sounds half heard, borne on the inconstant breeze. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 21. BREDON HILL by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 28. THE WELSH MARCHES by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 27 by ALFRED TENNYSON OLD WAR-DREAMS by WALT WHITMAN FRED ENGLEHARDT'S BABY by CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS |