Classic Poem

Oh babble not to me, Gray Eild,
Of days and years mis-spent,
Unless thou can'st again restore
Youth's scenes of merriment.

Can'st thou recal to me the heart
That bounded sorrow-free,
Or wake to life the lovely one
Who stole that heart from me?

Can'st thou by magic art compel
The shrouded dead to rise,
And all the friends of early years
Again to glad my eyes?

Can'st thou renew Hope flattering dream
That promised joys in store,
Or bid me taste again those few,
Alas! that are no more?

Then babble not to me, Gray Eild,
Of days and years mis-spent,
Unless thou can'st again restore
Youth's dreams of sweet content.