Chapter IV

Our home, when last I saw it, was all lone;
Yet my affections peopled it with those
Whose sunny smile upon my boyhood shone;
Then came reality,--the heart-spring froze:--
There was the stream, the willow, and the wild wood,
Where, emulous of height, in playing childhood,
With hearts encircled, on the beechen tree,
Dear one, I carved thy name, but then thou wert with me.