Page:Poems Cook.djvu/387

Or was it when that first-born joy
Grew up to your hope—a brave, strong boy—
And promised to fill the world in your stead?"
—The Old Man quietly shook his head.

"Say, was it, then, when Fortune brought
The round sum you had frugally sought?
Was the year the happiest that beheld
The vision of Poverty all dispell'd?
Or was it when you still had more,
And found you could boast a goodly store;
With Labour finish'd and Plenty spread?"
—The Old Man quietly shook his head.

Ah, no! ah, no! it was longer ago,"
The Old Man mutter'd-sadly and low;
"It was when I took my lonely way
To the lonely woods in the month of May;
When the Spring light fell as it falleth now;
With the bloom on the turf, and the leaf on the bough;
When I toss'd up my cap at the nest in the tree;
Oh that was the happiest time for me.

When I used to leap, and laugh, and shout;
Though I never knew what my joy was about;
And something seem'd to warm my breast,
As I sat on a mossy bank to rest.
That was the time—when I used to roll
On the blue-bells that cover'd the upland knoll;
And I never could tell why the thought should be,
But I fancied the flowers talk'd to me.

"Well I remember climbing to reach
A squirrel brood rock'd on the top of a beech;
Well I remember the blue-bells so sweet
That I toil'd with back to the city street:

371