Am I remember’d in my home?
When those I love for joy are met,
Does some one wish that I would come?
Thou dost—I am beloved of these!
But, as the schoolboy numbers o’er
Night after night the Pleiades,
And finds the stars he found before;
As turns the maiden oft her token;
As counts the miser aye his gold;
So, till life’s silver cord is broken,