IN childhood thy kindness has often caress'd me, Its memory is mix'd with my earliest days; It brighten'd my boyhood, in manhood it bless'd me, It thought not of thanks, and it pin'd not for praise. Can I, in thy evening, forget the mild brightness Which beam'd in thy zenith, and shines round thee still? No: ere I forget thee must memory be sightless, And the heart thou hast cherish'd death only can chill. Long, long since belov'd, now as warmly respected, To my fancy thou seem'st like some time-honour'd tree; And the plant, which thy fostering shadow protected, Still looks up with filial fondness to thee. Dark storms passing over, perhaps may have sear'd thee, The moss of old age be thy livery now; But much still survives which has justly endear'd thee; Some greenness still graces each gentle bent bough. May that sun, which must set, in descending enwreath thee With a mild pensive splendour no cloud can o'ercast; And all that has flourish'd around and beneath thee, Will preserve thy remembrance when sunset is past. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HALF-WAKING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM COLUMBUS DYING [MAY 20, 1506] by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR THE DAISY; WRITTEN AT EDINBURGH by ALFRED TENNYSON I SIT AND LOOK OUT by WALT WHITMAN THE SECOND COMING by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE WORLD'S WAY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ON CYNTHIA, SINGING A RECITATIVE PIECE OF MUSIC by PHILIP AYRES |