Littell's Living Age/Volume 133/Issue 1720/May Memories

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Swiftly wound the silver river
 Where the grass grew deep,
Through the mystic shade and silence
 That the woodlands keep;
Underneath the chestnuts straying,
 (Trembling fans o'erhead,)
With the creamy blossoms playing,
 How my bright hours sped!

As a dream when one awaketh
 Seems to me that day,
Chestnut blossoms, sliding river,
 Fairyland of May!
City walls close in behind me,
 Summer joys are o'er;
Where the sunshine used to find me
 I shall stray no more.

Other hands will pull the blossoms,
 Cones of pink and white;
Mine are worn with daily labor,
 Tired from morn till night
Still I muse, but not in sadness,
 On those bygone days;
Here my autumn hath its gladness
 Worth a thousand Mays!

Leisure Hour.