REMINISCENCES OF LYNN
The remembrance of our youth
Is as a summer day, and brighter gleams
As the dark shadow of our life grows deep,
There is no home so dear to us as that
Which reared our childhood, and its pleasant scenes
Rise, dear to memory’s eye. Those old trees
Under whose shade our merry sports went on
Are dear as ancient friends. My early home!
While memory lives, thy peaceful, happy scenes