Familiarly  the  very  roads  can  trace,
And  all  the  streams,  and  trees,  and  fields  around ;
How  dear  the  tender  strains  a  parent  sung —
So  lovely  are  the  days  when  we  were  young.
And  these  are  qualities  within  our  minds
That  never  can  be  changed  altogether :
Though  tossed  about  by  fortune's  adverse  winds,
The  first  impressions  will  not  wholly  wither.
In  us  the  love  of  country  never  dies.
It  presses  on  through  every  change  of  scene ;
It  is  the  source  from  which  reflection  springs,
And  objects  past  in  fairest  beauty  brings.
Whate'er  Ave  truly  love  can  never  more

Be  parted  from  the  heart  and  blotted  out ;

We  feel  the  objects  that  we  most  adore

Become  imprinted  and  entwined  about

Our  very  being,  and  are  then  a  part

Of  all  we  are  and  all  that  we  may  be ;

Our  minds  are  all  composed  of  memories.
And  hopes  and  fears  that  only  spring  from  these.
WAYSIDE   THOUGHTS.  49


And  that  is  human  life — mysterious  thing  !
Its  sweets  are  lost  before  we  are  aware.
Our  days  are  ever  flying  on  the  wing,
Still  wafting  us  away  from  year  to  year.
How  short  the  time  appears  to  look  behind !
How  far  the  future  stretches  out  of  sight !
Yet  always  coming  nearer,  comes,  and  then
We  close  our  eyes,  but  never  wake  again.
D


50  WAYSIDE   THOUGHTS.
fart  Stxtlj.
It  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  have  a  friend
Amidst  the  cares  and  wanderings  of  life,
Tried  and  true,  on  whom  we  can  depend :
It  soothes  the  heart  and  yields  a  calm  relief,
And  brightens  many  a  solitary  hour ;
Our  spirits  feel  enlightened  and  refreshed.
Our  keenest  troubles  for  a  time  are  gone,
"When  those  of  others  mingle  with  our  own.
