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CHILDHOOD.
271
Than those that sat around it—all
I knew of good and wise,
Spoke for me then upon their lips,
And lived within their eyes;
I had no Future then, no Past,
My life was unto me
But one bright Now—the happiness
That has no History!
Still hath my heart a hearth, but now
Its circle is so wide
That those it burns for, never meet
Around it side by side;
They are severed, they are scattered,
And now the twilight's fall
Too often only comes to me
With shadows on the wall;
Soon filled with childhood's measure,
The childish heart was small,
Yet they that made its treasure
Were its own—it held them all!

Now is that hearth deserted,
So warm and bright of yore,
And that pleasant garden—through its paths
I shall never wander more;
It is closed to me as surely
As if, to bar my way,
The Flaming Sword before its gate
Were turning night and day;