ft8 
SNOW-DROF. 
Their father’s home, so free from care, 
And the familiar faces there: 
The household voices, kind and sweet, 
That knew no feigning — hush’d and gone 
The mother that was sure to greet 
Their coming with a welcome tone; 
The brothers, that were children then. 
Now anxious, thoughtful, toiling men; 
And the kind sisters, whose glad mirth 
Was like a sunshine on the earth; — 
These come back to the heart supine, 
Flower of our youth! at look of thine; 
And thou, among the dimm’d and gone, 
Art an unalter’d thing alone ! 
Unchanged, unchanged the very flower 
That grew in Eden droopingly, 
Which now, beside the peasant’s door 
Awakes his merry children’s glee, 
E’en as it fill’d his heart with joy, ^ 
Beside his mother’s door — i boy: 
The same, and to his heart it brings 
The freshness of those vanish’d springs. 
Bloom, then, fair flower ! in sun and shade 
For deep thought in thy cup is laid, 
And careless children, in their glee, 
A sacred memory make of thee. 
