Poems (Douglas)/Stanzas (He paused: wild laughs and fitful screams came bursting on the breeze)
Stanzas
He paused: wild laughs and fitful screams came bursting on the breeze;
He leaned upon his staff to view the sporters twixt the trees:
Their silken locks danced back from brows all glad and sun-embrowned,
And agile feet flew quick as thought above the daisied ground.
A few had gained the goal, and there secure, but panting, stood,
Whilst others bounded towards the spot, pursuing and pursued;
Then rose again the laugh and scream, hand grasping tiny hand,
Till all within the circle stood, a rosy, breathless band.
The old man's ear drank in the sounds of little ones at play,
And as he gazed his dim eye seemed re-lit with youthful ray:
"The past, it is the past itself, embodied here in truth,
The thoughtless, painless, passionless, sweet primrose time of youth,
When beauty's spell lies all around, o'er fields, and flowers, and skies,
And every object wears the mirth of childhood's joylit eyes.
Rejoice in life, ye little ones; oh! who could mar your joy,
Who revelled once in childhood's sports, or been himself a boy;
Who, wearied out with very joy, each night hath sank to rest,
And woke again, the same glad thoughts still gushing in his breast—
All happiness, ne'er thinking why, nor whence, nor where the source,
As rapture with existence blent were but a thing of course?
Sport on, ye happy ones, sport on, while life's glad morn endures,
The wholeness of affection now, and truthfulness are yours;
A few revolving springs, and these sweet, gladsome starry eyes,
Shall see less beauty in the earth, less brilliancy in skies;—
Yet who would by convictions break, of coming care and pain,
And wrinkled age, the glorious dreams which in young bosoms reign?
He leaned upon his staff to view the sporters twixt the trees:
Their silken locks danced back from brows all glad and sun-embrowned,
And agile feet flew quick as thought above the daisied ground.
A few had gained the goal, and there secure, but panting, stood,
Whilst others bounded towards the spot, pursuing and pursued;
Then rose again the laugh and scream, hand grasping tiny hand,
Till all within the circle stood, a rosy, breathless band.
The old man's ear drank in the sounds of little ones at play,
And as he gazed his dim eye seemed re-lit with youthful ray:
"The past, it is the past itself, embodied here in truth,
The thoughtless, painless, passionless, sweet primrose time of youth,
When beauty's spell lies all around, o'er fields, and flowers, and skies,
And every object wears the mirth of childhood's joylit eyes.
Rejoice in life, ye little ones; oh! who could mar your joy,
Who revelled once in childhood's sports, or been himself a boy;
Who, wearied out with very joy, each night hath sank to rest,
And woke again, the same glad thoughts still gushing in his breast—
All happiness, ne'er thinking why, nor whence, nor where the source,
As rapture with existence blent were but a thing of course?
Sport on, ye happy ones, sport on, while life's glad morn endures,
The wholeness of affection now, and truthfulness are yours;
A few revolving springs, and these sweet, gladsome starry eyes,
Shall see less beauty in the earth, less brilliancy in skies;—
Yet who would by convictions break, of coming care and pain,
And wrinkled age, the glorious dreams which in young bosoms reign?