That Nature has grown old. Her skies are still
As blue, her trees as green, her dews as soft,
Her flowers as sweet, her clouds as beautiful,
Her birds, her waves, her winds as musical
As when I was a child—Alas! the change
Is in my heart.
Oh, blessed memories
Of home! ye are the worshiped household gods
Upon my spirit’s altar. Vanished years!
Ye are the dew-drops that my spirit’s flowers