Part 3 — THE RETURN TO SCENES OF CHILDHOOD.

"You have come again," said the dark old trees, As I entered my childhood's home. "You have come again," said the whispering breeze, "And wherefore have you come? "When last I played round your youthful brow Its morning's light was there, But you bring back a shadow upon it now, And a saddened look of care. "Have you come, have you left earth's noisy strife, To seek your favorite flowers? They are gone, like the hopes which lit your life, Like your childhood's sunny hours. "Have you come to seek for your shady dell, For that spot in the moonlit grove, Where first you were bound by the magic spell, And thrilled to the voice of love? "Has your heart been true to that early vow, And pure as that trickling tear? Does that voice of music charm you now As once it charmed you here? "Years have been short, and few, since last As a child you roamed the glen; But what have you learned since hence you passed, What have you lost since then? "You have brought back a woman's ruddier cheek, A woman's fuller form, But where is the look so timid and meek, The blush so quick and warm? "Have you come to seek for the smiles of yore, For your brief life's faded light? Do you hope to hear in these shades once more The blessing and 'good-night?' "Do you come again for the kisses sweet, Do you look as you onward pass For the mingled prints of the tiny feet In the fresh and springing grass? "Have you come to sit on a parent's knee And gaze on his reverend brow? Or to nestle in love and childish glee On her bosom, that's pulseless now? "Why come you back? We can give you naught, No more the past is ours, Thine early scenes with their blessings fraught, Thy childhood's golden hours." I have come, I have come, oh haunts of youth, With a worn and weary heart; I have come to recall the love and truth Of my young life's guileless part. I have come to bend o'er the holy spot Where I prayed by a father's knee— Oh I am changed—but I ne'er forgot His look, his smile for me. I have not been true to my heart's first love Here pledged 'neath the moonlit heaven, But I come to kneel in the lonely grove And ask to be forgiven. I have not brought back the hopes of youth, Or the gentle look so meek, I mourn o'er my perished faith and truth And the quick blush of my cheek. But, oh ye scenes, that have once beguiled, In the peaceful days of yore. I would come again like a little child With the trust I knew before. I would call back every hope and fear, The heart throbs full and high, The prattling child that rambled here, And ask if it were I? And I would recall the murmured prayer, And the dark eyes look of love, While unseen angels hovered there From the starry worlds above. And I've come to seek one flower here, Just one, in its fading bloom, Though it must be culled with a gushing tear From a parent's grassy tomb. And I'll bear it away on my lonely breast, As a charm 'mid earth's stormy strife, An amulet, worn to give me rest, On the billowy waves of life. I wait not now by the dancing rill For the steps of my playmates fair— They are gone—but yon heaven is o'er me still, And I'll seek to meet them there. Parents, and friends, and hopes are gone, And these memories only given, But they shall be links, while the heart is lone, In the "chain" that reaches heaven.