TWENTY-TWO.

I'm twenty-two — I'm twenty-two —

They gaily give me joy,

As if I should be glad to hear

That I was less a boy.

They do not know how carelessly

Their words have given pain,

To one whose heart would leap to be

A happy boy again.

I had a light and careless heart

When this brief year began,

And then I pray'd that I might be

A grave and perfect man.

The world was like a blessed dream

Of joyous coming years —

I did not know its manliness

Was but to wake in tears.

A change has on my spirit come,

I am forever sad;

The light has all departed now

My early feelings had;

I used to love the morning grey,

The twilight's quiet deep,

But now like shadows on the sea,

Upon my thoughts they creep.

And love was like a holy star,

When this brief year was young,

And my whole worship of the sky

On one sweet ray was flung;

But worldly things have come between,

And shut it from my sight,

And though the star shines purely yet,

I mourn its hidden light.

And fame! I bent to it the knee,

And bow'd to it my brow,

And it is like a coal upon

My living spirit now —

But when I pray'd for burning fire

To touch the soul I bow'd,

I did not know the lightning flash

Would come in such a cloud.

Ye give me joy! Is it because

Another year has fled?—

That I am farther from my youth,

And nearer to the dead?

Is it because my cares have come?—

My happy boyhood o'er?—

Because the visions I have lov'd

Will visit me no more?

Oh, tell me not that ye are glad!

I cannot smile it back;

I've found no flower, and seen no light

On manhood's weary track.

My love is deep — ambition deep —

And heart and mind will on —

But love is fainting by the way,

And fame consumes ere won.