Whence that low voice ?— A whisper from
the heart,1
the heart,1
That told set days long past when here I
roved2
roved2
With friends and kindred tenderly beloved ;3
Some who had early mandates to depart,4
Yet are allowed to steal my path athwart5
By Duddon’s side ; once more do we unite,6
Once more beneath the kind Earth’s tran-
quil light ;7
quil light ;7
And smother’d joys into new being start.8
From her unworthy seat, the cloudy stall9
Of Time, breaks forth triumphant Memory ;10
Her glistening tresses bound, yet light and
free11
free11
As golden locks of birch, that rise and fall12
On gales that breathe too gently to recal13
Aught of the fading year’s inclemency !14