TWENTY-TWO.

I'm twenty-two — I'm twenty-two — They gaily give me joy, As if I should be glad to hear That I was less a boy.

They do not know how carelessly Their words have given pain, To one whose heart would leap to be A happy boy again.

I had a light and careless heart When this brief year began, And then I pray'd that I might be A grave and perfect man.

The world was like a blessed dream Of joyous coming years — I did not know its manliness Was but to wake in tears.

A change has on my spirit come, I am forever sad; The light has all departed now My early feelings had;

I used to love the morning grey, The twilight's quiet deep, But now like shadows on the sea, Upon my thoughts they creep.

And love was like a holy star, When this brief year was young, And my whole worship of the sky On one sweet ray was flung;

But worldly things have come between, And shut it from my sight, And though the star shines purely yet, I mourn its hidden light.

And fame! I bent to it the knee, And bow'd to it my brow, And it is like a coal upon My living spirit now —

But when I pray'd for burning fire To touch the soul I bow'd, I did not know the lightning flash Would come in such a cloud.

Ye give me joy! Is it because Another year has fled?— That I am farther from my youth, And nearer to the dead?

Is it because my cares have come?— My happy boyhood o'er?— Because the visions I have lov'd Will visit me no more?

Oh, tell me not that ye are glad! I cannot smile it back; I've found no flower, and seen no light On manhood's weary track.

My love is deep — ambition deep — And heart and mind will on — But love is fainting by the way, And fame consumes ere won.