CHILDHOOD 



A POEM. 



[This is one of the Author's earliest productions, and appears, by 

 the handwriting, to have been written when he was betw^een 

 fourteen and fifteen. The picture of the Schoolmistress is from 

 nature.] 



Part I. 



Pictured in memory's mellowing glass, how sweet 

 Our infant days, our infant joys to greet ; 

 To roam in fancy in each cheribh'd scene, 

 The village churchyard, and the village green. 

 The woodland walk remote, the greenwood glade, 

 The mossy seat beneath the hawthorn's shade, 

 The whitewash'd cottage, where the woodbine grew, 

 And all the favourite haunts our childhood knew ! 

 How sweet, while all the evil shuns the gaze, 

 To view the unclouded skies of former days ! 



Beloved age of innocence and smiles, 



When each wing'd hour some new delight beguiles, 



When the gay heart, to life's sweet day-spring true. 



Still finds some insect pleasure to pursue. 



Blest Childhood, hail ! — Thee simply will I sing, 



And from myself the artless picture bring ; 



These long-lost scenes to me the past restore, 



Each humble friend, each pleasure, now no more, 



And ev'ry stump familiar to my sight, 



Recalls some fond idea of delight. 



This shrubby knoll was once my favourite seat ; 

 Here did I love at evening to retreat, 



