HIRAM LADD SPENCER
BY cliffs grown gray, as men grow grayWith weariness and sorrow,Awhile I pause, and then away,And in the wild and restless BayI lose myself to-morrow.I turn the wheels of many mills,By many islands dally;I gossip with the daffodils,And to my bosom take the rillsThat from the woodlands sally.I love the songs that childhood sings—Its smiles and roguish glances,—A picture paint of many thingsThat o'er the mind a halo flingsAs onward time advances.I listen to the tender chimeOf city bells a-swaying:O dower of youth! O wealth of time!O pleasant dreams! O hopes sublime,When all the world's a-swaying!By cliffs grown gray, as men grow grayWith weariness and sorrow,Awhile I pause, and then away,Like you who loiter here to-day,And lose myself to-morrow.
BY cliffs grown gray, as men grow grayWith weariness and sorrow,Awhile I pause, and then away,And in the wild and restless BayI lose myself to-morrow.I turn the wheels of many mills,By many islands dally;I gossip with the daffodils,And to my bosom take the rillsThat from the woodlands sally.I love the songs that childhood sings—Its smiles and roguish glances,—A picture paint of many thingsThat o'er the mind a halo flingsAs onward time advances.I listen to the tender chimeOf city bells a-swaying:O dower of youth! O wealth of time!O pleasant dreams! O hopes sublime,When all the world's a-swaying!By cliffs grown gray, as men grow grayWith weariness and sorrow,Awhile I pause, and then away,Like you who loiter here to-day,And lose myself to-morrow.
BY cliffs grown gray, as men grow grayWith weariness and sorrow,Awhile I pause, and then away,And in the wild and restless BayI lose myself to-morrow.
BY cliffs grown gray, as men grow gray
With weariness and sorrow,
Awhile I pause, and then away,
And in the wild and restless Bay
I lose myself to-morrow.
I turn the wheels of many mills,By many islands dally;I gossip with the daffodils,And to my bosom take the rillsThat from the woodlands sally.
I turn the wheels of many mills,
By many islands dally;
I gossip with the daffodils,
And to my bosom take the rills
That from the woodlands sally.
I love the songs that childhood sings—Its smiles and roguish glances,—A picture paint of many thingsThat o'er the mind a halo flingsAs onward time advances.
I love the songs that childhood sings—
Its smiles and roguish glances,—
A picture paint of many things
That o'er the mind a halo flings
As onward time advances.
I listen to the tender chimeOf city bells a-swaying:O dower of youth! O wealth of time!O pleasant dreams! O hopes sublime,When all the world's a-swaying!
I listen to the tender chime
Of city bells a-swaying:
O dower of youth! O wealth of time!
O pleasant dreams! O hopes sublime,
When all the world's a-swaying!
By cliffs grown gray, as men grow grayWith weariness and sorrow,Awhile I pause, and then away,Like you who loiter here to-day,And lose myself to-morrow.
By cliffs grown gray, as men grow gray
With weariness and sorrow,
Awhile I pause, and then away,
Like you who loiter here to-day,
And lose myself to-morrow.