Boyhood Days

O, take me back to the boyhood days,

     To my boyhood’s happy dreaming;

To the leaf-clad hills, and the rhythmic rills,

     Where the sun-kissed stream lay gleaming.

O, take me back to the golden days,

     To the simple joys I tasted;

For an older life in this toil and strife,

     Is a life grown cold and wasted.

I’ve tasted the fruits of middle age,

     I have found them tart and bitter;

I have found that fame and a landed name

     Is only a passing glitter.

So take me back to the boyhood time,

     Where the great ghost life is hidden;

And lose me there in the woodland fair,

     Where grief and care are forbidden.

Jan. 14, ‘99

 Pub.

B. Courier,

Apr. 23,

    ‘99