Beloved and loving faces, that you've known so long and well,
The dear familiar places where your childish footsteps fell,
Where you join'd with careless heart and free your playmates' blooming band,
As happy still as now in this,—you'll tread your native land.
Mrs. Osgood.
37. On the well-sloped banks arise trim clumps,
Some round and some oblong, of shrubs exotic;
While, at respectful distance, rises up
The red brick wall, with flues and chimney-tops
And many a leafy crucifix adorn'd.