Ah! where are hours departed fled?
Is life a dream, or true indeed?
Did all my heart hath fashioned
From fancy's visitings proceed?
Yes! I have slept; and now unknown
To me the things best known before:
The land, the people, once mine own,
Where are they? -- they are here no more:
My boyhood's friends, all aged, worn,
Despoil'd the woods, the fields, of home,
Only the stream flows on forlorn;
(Alas! that e'er such change should come!)
And he knew me once so well
Salutes me now as one estranged:
The very earth to me can tell
Of nought but things perverted, changed:
And when I muse on other days,
That pass'd me as the dashing oars
The surface of the ocean raise,
Ceaseless my heart its fate deplores;
&c.