As if looking through a misty glass I gazeUpon the beauty and the riches of the past;Whither vanished have those golden dreamy days,Whose treasures and whose boundaries were so vast?
Where are the kingdoms and the regions of delight;Where in the majesty of innocence Youth reigned?Ah, their heroes and their gods have taken flight,Not a trace of their gay wanderings remained.
And the pictures that a fevered brain had limned In the Sky tints, azure and of rose, Why should their color and their brilliancy have dimmed In the calmer days and periods of repose?
And the dreams, say! ah, the maddening dreams that thrilled The stirring soul, and bore it upward, ever up, And the fragrance of the nourishment distilled. And the nectar that did overflow its cup!
What reckless hand hath shattered all the art Exerted by the architects of youth, To build a world whose foundations are a part Of faith and hope, of wisdom and of truth?
Who hath removed the magic that long held Our charmed souls in sweet captivity? The mist, pray, from our vision who dispelled And who profaned our cherished sanctity?
Scarce a remnant of the wealth now remains That once enriched and gilded our days; Immeasurable our losses, while our gains Are meagre, and are hampered by delays.
We are wiser now and better, it is true, But dearly have we paid for our years; We shall never know the blissful joys we knew While hearkening to Reason's doubts and fears!