| The young! Oh! what
should wandering fancy bring
In life's first spring-time but the thoughts of spring?
Worlds without winter, blooming amaranth bowers,
Garlands of brightness wreathed from changeless flowers;
Where shapes like angels wander to and fro,
Unwing,ed, but glorious, in the noontide glow,
Which steeps the hills, the dales, the earth, the sea,
In one soft flood of golden majesty.
In this world, - so create, - no sighs nor tears, -
No sadness brought with lapse of varying years,
No cold betrayal of the trusting heart, -
No knitting up of love fore-doomed to part, -
No pain, deformity, nor pale disease, -
No wars, - no tyranny, - no fears that freeze
The rapid current of the restless blood, -
Nor effort scorned, - nor act misunderstood, -
No dark remorse for ever-haunting sin, -
But all at peace without - at rest within;
And hopes which gild Thought's wildest waking hours,
Scattered around us carelessly as flowers.
Oh! Paradise, in vain dilist thou depart;
Thine image still is stamped on every heart!
Though mourning man in vain may seek to trace
The site of that which was his dwelling-place,
Though the four glittering rivers now divide
No realms of beauty with their rolling tide,
Each several life yet opens with the view
Of that unblighted world where Adam drew
The breath of being: in each several mind,
However cramped, and fettered, and confined,
The innate power of beauty folded lies,
And, like a bud beneath the summer skies,
Blooms out in youth through many a radiant day,
Though in life's winter frost it dies away.
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