224 OF THE DAYS GONE BY 



If I shut this wherein I write, 

 I hear no more the wind athwart 

 Those trees, nor feel that childish heart 

 Delighting in delight. 



My childhood from my life is parted, 

 My footstep from the moss which drew 

 Its fairy circle round : anew 

 The garden is deserted. 



Another thrush may there rehearse 

 The madrigals which sweetest are ; 

 No more for me ! myself afar 

 Do sing a sadder verse. 



Ah me, ah me ! when erst I lay 

 In that child's-nest so greenly wrought, 

 I laugh'd unto myself and thought, 

 " The time will pass away." 



And still I laugh'd, and did not fear 

 But that, whene'er was passed away 

 The childish time, some happier play 

 My womanhood would cheer. 



I knew the time would pass away ; 

 And yet, beside the rose-tree wall, 

 Dear God, how seldom, if at all 

 Did I look up to pray ! 



The time is past : and now that grows 

 The cypress high among the trees, 

 And I behold white sepulchres 

 As well as the white rose, 



