Classic Poem

The martin's nest! the martin's nest!
I see it swinging high,
Just as it stood in distant years,
Above my gazing eye;
But many a bird has plumed its wing,
And lightly flown away,
Or drooped its little head in death,
Since that — my youthful day!

The woodland stream! the woodland stream!
It gaily flows along,
As once it did when by its side
I sang my merry song.
But many a wave has roll'd afar,
Beneath the summer cloud,
Since by its bank I idly poured
My childish song aloud.

The sweet-brier Rose! the sweet-brier Rose
Still spreads its fragrant arms,
Where graciously to passing eyes
It gave its simple charms;
But many a perfumed breeze has past,
And many a blossom fair,
Since with a careless heart I twined
Its green wreaths in my hair.

The Barberry bush! the Barberry bush!
Its yellow blossoms hang
As erst, where by the grassy lane
Along I lightly sprang;
But many a flower has come and gone,
And scarlet berry shone,
Since I, a school-girl in its path,
In rustic dance have flown.

My sisters dear! my sisters dear!
And ye still live and dwell
Among the scenes where early life
Once threw its gentle spell:
And, God be thanked! though some young joys
Have flown from your soft nest,
The wanderer finds a welcome still,
And in your arms is prest.