Has sprinkled o'er our locks its silver threads,
Remembrance brings to mind—and gladness sheds—
The pastimes of our prime!
The lowing of the kine,
In distant meadow-glades, comes on the ear,
With taste of nature fresh, like far-off cheer
Of rustics, as they join
The merry dance at eve;
Each rural sound has in it joy and health:
Man now should garner thought, as well as wealth,