  I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away! I remember, I remember The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups,— Those flowers made of light! The lilacs where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birthday,— The tree is living yet! I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now, And summer pool could hardly cool The fever on my brow! I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky. It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from heaven Than when I was a boy. Thomas Hood. |
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