How changed are they! — how changed am I!

How changed are they! — how changed am I!
The early spring of life is gone,
Gone is each youthful vanity', —

But what with years, oh what is won?
I know not — but while standing now
Where open'd first the heart of youth,

recollect how high would glow
Its thoughts of Glory, Faith, and Truth —
How full it was of good and great,

How true to heav'n how warm to men.
Alas! I scarce forbear to hate
The colder breast I bring again.

Hopes disappointed, sin, and time.
Have moulded me since here I stood;
Ah! paint old feelings, rock sublime.

Speak life's fresh accents, mountain flood!