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Now the radiant hills ascending
 With young playmates, as of yore,
Peals of merry laughter blending
 With the gushing mill-stream's roar;
Then to home, with book before him,
 Seated by his mother's side,
Did his visions bright restore him,
 Where he met her glance of pride.

Woe was from his bosom banish'd,
 Joys were his so long unknown;
But, alas! the vision vanish'd—
 Glitt'ring arms around him shone.
Back to punishment they led him,
 Back to duty and disgrace.
From that hour hope's last rays fled him,
 Ne'er a smile illumed his face;

She, his mother, had departed,
 Her last cherish'd wish denied,
To behold her noble-hearted,
 Clasp and bless him ere she died.

'Twas the man whose lifted station
 O'er his fellows gave him power,
Wrought that young heart's desolation,
 Blasted every bosom flower.
Thus was life made dark and dreary
 By the heartless and unkind:
But no longer now the weary
 Battles with rude waves and wind.