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