Lines on Leaving the River Cart

O SCENES of my childhood, and dear to my heart,
Ye green-waving woods on the banks of the Cart!
How oft in the morning of life I have strayed
By the stream of the vale and the grass-covered glade!
Then, then, every rapture was young and sincere,
Ere the sunshine of life had been dimmed by a tear;
And a sweeter delight every scene seemed to lend —
That the mansion of peace was the home of a friend.

Now the scenes of my childhood, and dear to my heart,
All pensive I visit, and sigh to depart;
Their flowers seem to languish, their beauty to cease,
For a stranger inhabits the mansion of peace!
But hushed be the sigh that untimely complains
While friendship with all its enchantment remains —
While it blooms like the flower of a winterless clime,
Untainted by change, unabated by time!