Then round me, on the light wind softly borne, I heard the numbers of an unseen harp, And turning, saw an angel near me stand. He sang of earthly love, and the soft tones Of his sweet harp were like Aeolian strains Far breathing o'er some blissful Eden world! And as I listened, all my holiest dreams Of harmony, ideal, grand, and high, Seem'd discord. Then methought I saw, Upon the morning hills, a bower arise. Bright flowers of wondrous hues around it bloomed, All, all of beauty that the heart could dream Was there; and, lov'lier far than all, A sweet-eyed maiden, twining rose-wreaths fair!
Dark clouds arose and dimmed the glowing sky; The lightnings flashed, and fearful thunder pealed; And, as they shook the bower, I hid mine eyes, Fearing to see the beauteous visions fade.
The fierce storm ceased. I raised mine eyes again, And saw the wreck of what was once so fair; The flowers had perished, and the maiden wept-- Then all the picture melted into air!
"This shows," the angel said, "what sin has done; Death and decay must fall on earthly things. See that you read God's mighty Teacher right-- The Book of Nature wide before you spread. 'Twas given for man to look on, love, and learn; But men have eyes, and will not read its lore-- Ears, and the God-sent teachings will not hear! Earth's glories and her brightness all must fade; Yet, while they linger, still they say, 'Prepare.'"
Oh! well-known scenes of childhood's days, Again ye meet my longing eyes; And still, as memory backward strays, A thousand tender visions rise; Of days when youth's all potent powers Could trace in light the coming hours, Of dreams that withered with the flowers That round my pathway sprung!
When fond Belief, unchill'd by Time, Built airy castles, high and grand; When fickle Fancy's dreams sublime Made Earth appear a fairyland! Yon school-house seems the same to day-- Each well-remembered turn and way Are there--yet, ah! how far away Are childhood's hours from me!
Still, still the same--the cherished scene, That ever thro' the varying years, Deep-graven on my heart has been, In morns of joy--in nights of tears. And oft in darksome times of pain, When hope seem'd dead, and comfort vain, Ye shone upon life's desert plain A friendly light, and true.