Classic Poem

I.

Ten years ago — ten years ago —
Life was to us a fairy scene;
And the keen blasts of worldly woe
Had sered not then its pathway green.
Youth and its thousand dreams were ours, —
Feelings we ne'er can know again, —
Unwithered hopes, unwasted powers,
And frames unworn by mortal pain:
Such was the bright and genial flow
Of life with us — ten years ago!

II.

Time has not blanched a single hair
That clusters round thy forehead now;
Nor hath the cankering touch of Care
Left even one furrow on thy brow
Thine eyes are blue as when we met,
In love's deep truth, in earlier years;
Thy cheek of rose is blooming yet,
Though sometimes stained by secret tears; —
But where, oh where's the spirit's glow
That shone through all — ten years ago?

III.

I, too, am changed — I scarce know why;
Can feel each flagging pulse decay,
And youth, and health, and visions high,
Melt like a wreath of snow away!
Time cannot sure have wrought the ill;
Though worn in this world's sickening strife
In soul and form, — I linger still
In the first summer month of life;
Yet journey on my path below, —
Oh! how unlike — ten years ago!

IV.

But, look not thus, — I would not give
The wreck of hopes that thou must share,
To bid those joyous hours revive,
When all around me seemed so fair.
We've wandered on in sunny weather,
When winds were low and flowers in bloom,
And hand in hand have kept together,
And still will keep, 'mid storm and gloom;
Endeared by ties we could not know,
When life was young — ten years ago!

V.

Has Fortune frowned? — Her frowns were vain,
For hearts like ours she could not chill!
Have friends proved false? — Their love might wane, —
But ours grew fonder, firmer still!
Twin barks on this world's changing wave,
Stedfast in calms — in tempests tried, —
In concert still our fate we 'll brave, —
Together cleave life's fitful tide;
Nor mourn, whatever winds may blow,
Youth's first wild dreams — ten years ago!

VI.

Have we not knelt beside his bed,
And watched our first-born blossom die?
Hoped, till the shade of hope had fled,
Then wept till feeling's fount was dry?
Was it not soothing in that hour
To think, 'mid mutual tears and sighs,
Our bud had left its earthly bower,
And burst to bloom in Paradise?
What, to the thought that soothed that woe,
Were heartless joys — ten years ago?

VII.

Yes, it is sweet, when Heaven is bright,
To share its sunny beams with thee!
But sweeter far, 'mid clouds and blight,
To have thee near to weep with me.
Then dry those tears, — though something changed
From what we were in earlier youth, —
Time, that hath hopes and friends estranged,
Hath left us love in all its truth; —
Sweet feelings we would not forego,
For life's best joys — ten years ago!