THE PALMER.
235
And thou—from thy lip is fled the glow,
From thine eye the light of morn;
And the shades of thought o'erhang thy brow,
And thy cheek with life is worn.
Say what hast thou brought from the distant shore
For thy wasted youth to pay?
Hast thou treasure to win thee joys once more?
Hast thou vassals to smooth thy way?
"I have brought but the palm branch in my hand.
Yet I call not my bright youth lost!
I have won but high thought in the Holy Land,
Yet I count not too dear the cost!
"I look on the leaves of the deathless tree—
These records of my track;
And better than youth in its flush of glee,
Are the memories they give me back!
