And memory dim with dark oblivion joins;

Where woke the first remembered sounds that fell

Upon the ear in childhood’s early morn;

And, wandering thence along the rolling years,

I see the shadow of my former self

Gliding from childhood up to man’s estate;

The path of youth winds down through many a vale.

And on the brink of many a dread abyss,

From out whose darkness comes no ray of light,

Save that a phantom dances o’er the gulf