(by Abraham Lincoln at age 37)
—
My childhood’s home I see again,
…And sadden with the view;
And still, as memory crowds my brain,
…There’s pleasure in it, too.
O memory! thou midway world
…‘ Twixt earth and paradise,
Where things decayed and loved ones lost
…In dreamy shadows rise,
And, freed from all that’s earthly, vile,
…Seem hallowed, pure and bright,
Like scenes in some enchanted isle
…All bathed in liquid light.
As dusky mountains please the eye
…When twilight chases day;
As bugle notes that, passing by,
…In distance die away;
As, leaving some grand waterfall,
…We, lingering, list its roar –
So memory will hallow all
…We’ve known but know no more.
Near twenty years have passed away
…Since here I bid farewell
To woods and fields, and scenes of play,
…And playmates loved so well.
Where many were, but few remain
…Of old familiar things,
But seeing them to mind again
…The lost and absent brings.
The friends I left that parting day,
…How changed, as time has sped!
Young childhood grown, strong manhood gray;
…And half of us are dead.
I hear the loved survivors tell
…How nought from death could save,
Till every sound appears a knell
…And every spot a grave.
I range the fields with pensive tread,
…And pace the hollow rooms,
And feel (compassion of the dead)
…I’m living in the tombs.
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