LOST.

The sunset burns on roof and spire,

And streets with busy passers rife;

But ah! it lacks the dream-world fire,

That once 'twas wont to call to life.

That once it kindled in the days

Of woodland haunt and country lane,

Before I knew the city's ways,

Before I learned that life has pain.

Oh! present, with your armed host

Of anxious cares, barbed sharp, and keen

Fade! for the light of pleasures lost

Shines forth from days that once have been.

A fairer sunset charms the West

A mellower radiance fills the air;

A scene with old-time beauty drest,

Lies stretched before me, smiling fair.

A rustic range-wall, gnarled and old,

A wooden bridge that spans a stream;

The glory of the sunset's gold.

The sweetness of my first love-dream!

Two hearts that meet in passion'd thrill,

Whose perfect bliss no words can tell;

But once in life that joy we feel,

And feeling, prize, alas! too well!

Oh! Time and Doubt! ye fill the heart

With sepulchres of Love and Truth;

Our hopes lie dead but memory's part

Must still be played till life shall cease.

Oh! swift years ever drifting fleet

Adown life's current, tempest toss'd,

Roll on! till on Time's brink we meet

And hail the life where nought is lost!

Lays from the West · 第 66 / 81 题