Where first I felt the sweet, bewildering bliss
Of new existence. Softly, through the deep
Green foliage of the grove, the beautiful
White cottage peeps with its thick-blooming vines,
And in the distance the still church-yard, where
Repose the cold, unthrobbing hearts of those
I loved in childhood, lifts its marble shafts
Beneath the drooping willows. I behold
The shaded paths where my young footsteps strayed
To gather wild flowers at the morning tide,