Originally published in Fraser's Magazine (James Fraser) vol.3 #14 (Mar 1831).
"Flowers—Oh, could we but return to earth as easily as they!"—Miss Bowles.
Oh, wherefore when the glory of our early bloom is past,
And the tabret of our hope hath murmur'd out its last,
The embers are growing dim, upon our father's hearth—
Wherefore, like the glad young flow'rs, should we return to earth!
The flowers may come again, and sweet may be their waking;
They think not of the leaves, the autumn-wind is shaking:
The merry bird may bathe its wings in the summer sky,
The vision of a broken wing will never cloud its eye!
When my mother's voice is gone—that dear familiar tone,
So musical to every wish, so linked to my own:
The hand is cold which I have press'd in sadness and in mirth,
And my sister's voice is silent too—would I return to earth!
And Thou, O our Saviour, whose eye of peace hath smil'd
The dark-thought from the mourner's face, the sorrow from her child,
The Olive Mount shall be once more thy bright and glorious fane,
And Israel's heart shall sing with joy, if Thou wilt come again!
Spirit of my early days; the lovely and the fair,
The glow, the beauty of my thoughts, the music of my pray'r,
Oh—take the fairest flowers of boyhood in its play,
If thou wilt but renew my heart as "easily as they."