“Hath thy soul been true to its early love”
Whisper’d my native streams;
“Hath the spirit nursed amidst hill and grove
Still revered its first high dreams?”
“Hast thou borne in thy bosom the holy prayer
Of the child in his parent-halls?”
Thus breathed a voice on the thrilling air,
From the old ancestral walls.
“Hast thou kept thy faith with the faithful dead,
Whose place of rest is nigh?