And o’er the tranquil soul returns the dream,
Which once she cherished by fair Seekonk’s stream.
And when stern winter breathes the chilling storm,
And night comes down on earth in mantle hoar,
I guide the herds and flocks to shelter warm,
And sate their hunger from the gathered store;
Then round the cottage hearth the circle form
Of childhood lovelier than the vernal flower,
Partake its harmless glee and prattle gay,
And soothe my soul to tune the artless lay.