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Oliver Wendell Holmes - Departed Days
Work rating: Medium

Yes, dear departed, cherished days,
Could Memory`s hand restore
Your morning light, your evening rays,
From Time`s gray urn once more,
Then might this restless heart be still,
This straining eye might close,
And Hope her fainting pinions fold,
While the fair phantoms rose.

But, like a child in ocean`s arms,
We strive against the stream,
Each moment farther from the shore
Where life`s young fountains gleam;
Each moment fainter wave the fields,
And wider rolls the sea;
The mist grows dark, the sun goes down,
Day breaks, and where are we?
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