56 
Seeks ’midst its native air again 
The notes which formed its first wild strain. 
The dreams which charm, the hopes which lure, 
Thy steps upon their way, 
Familiar as my home of yore, 
Around my memory play; 
And thy most cherished wish I name 
The idol, the delusion — Fame! 
’Twas mine, while yet a child I roved 
Life’s budding flowers among; 
’T was mine until my bosom proved 
Another — and I flung 
Fame — Fancy — Hope — upon the shrine 
To make that dearer idol mine. 
But start not — for to thee the spell 
Exists in all its power — 
Thine ardent strains the story tell, 
Hope claims the present hour; 
