Classic Poem

I slept, and back to my early days
Did wandering fancy roam—
When my heart vos light and my opes vos bright
And my own a appy ome.

When I dreamed I was young and hinnocent—
And my art vos free from care,
And my Parents smiled on their darling child,
And breathed for his [ ] a prayer.

Once again I was rising before the sun,
For in childhood I was told—
If its earliest ray on my head should play—
It would turn each tress to gold.

Once again I vos roaming through fields and flowers,
And I felt at each step new joys—
But I woke with a sigh that memory
Should revive what time destroys.