Stay near me — do not take thy flight! A little longer stay in sight! Much converse do I find in Thee, Historian of my Infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart! Dead times revive in thee: Thou bring'st, gay Creature as thou art! A solemn image to my heart,
My Father's Family! Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days, The time, when in our childish plays My sister Emmeline and I
Together chaced the Butterfly! A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey:— with leaps and springs I follow'd on from brake to bush;
But She, God love her! feared to brush The dust from off its wings. The Sun has long been set: The Stars are out by twos and threes;
The little Birds are piping yet Among the bushes and trees; There's a Cuckoo, and one or two thrushes; And a noise of wind that rushes,
With a noise of water that gushes; And the Cuckoo's sovereign cry Fills all the hollow of the sky! Who would go “parading”
In London, and “masquerading,” On such a night of June? With that beautiful soft half-moon, And all these innocent blisses,
On such a night as this is! O Nightingale! thou surely art A Creature of a fiery heart — These notes of thine they pierce, and pierce;
Tumultuous harmony and fierce! Thou sing'st as if the God of wine Had help'd thee to a Valentine; A song in mockery and despite
Of shades, and dews, and silent Night, And steady bliss, and all the Loves Now sleeping in these peaceful groves! I heard a Stockdove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day. His voice was buried among trees, Yet to be come at by the breeze: He did not cease; but coo'd — and coo'd;
And somewhat pensively he woo'd: He sang of love with quiet blending, Slow to begin, and never ending; Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the Song, the Song for me! My heart leaps up when I behold A Rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a Man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is Father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
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