There was a time before the chick could fly,
But still was screened by the maternal wing,
...
Within the unchanging twilight
Of the high land of the gods,
Between the murmuring fountain
And the Ash-tree, tree of trees,
...
The children in their best at last
Were gathered on the lawn,
By sex divided, or by ages classed;
...
I.
It seems but yesterday, and yet
I was then but two years from school,
...
Oisin, son of great Fingal,
Of Fenian race the last of all,
Longed to see his native land
With longing nothing could withstand.
...
Is this indeed All-Hallow's day,
When fairies hold their annual play?
As out of school like bees they fly,
...
Farewell, it is not much to say
When bright night follows pleasant day,
And when the traveller takes the way
...
Now the tide is safe and high,
In the fresh'ning morning breeze,
...
In life we judge and estimate,
With our dearest even debate,
And strive to hold the balance true
...
Spring comes with all the firstlings of the year
Leaping around her, careless of the cold;
...