All were the same, and seem'd with greeting fond
To welcome me as they of old had done.
And for a while I stood as in a trance,
On that loved spot, forgetting toil and pain;—
Buoyant my limbs, and keen and bright my glance,
For that brief space I was a boy again!
Again with giddy mates I careless play'd,
Or plied the quiv'ring oar, on conquest bent:—
Again, beneath the tall elms' silent shade,
I woo'd the fair, and won the sweet consent.