Danbury Times

To The Rev. J. B. Wakley
Oh! I remember, years ago,
Enclosed a garden fair.
And lovely flowers of various hues,
Were sweetly blooming there.
The crimson balm, the blushing rose.
The clust'ring snow-ball tree,
The fragrant pink, the fleur de lis
Bright, beautiful to me.
And now a careless foot might tread,
Amidst the floweret's guarded bed
The sabbath quiet. all the day.
So peaceful all around
That to my childish thoughts it seemed
A spot of holy ground.
And chanted there, the morning songs
By little warbling birds,
Sweet and devout, like the church airs
They must have often heard.
For there--a quaint, old mansion stood,
The home of one sincerely good
And there. once on a time. I met.
A gay, young, laughing boy,
Merry and free--I see him yet,
His sparkling eye of joy :
And there in school-taught tones, he spoke,
Of chieftains fames of old.
And wished he, too, was then a man,
A valiant warrior bold.
And yet, and yet--it almost seems
A vision dim, of midnight dreams.
And on that spot, in musing mood.
I stood, but yesterday.
Of things that were To find one trace
But all had passed away.
And she. whose cheerful. welcome smile
To me was ever dear.
Beneath the grave-yard's turf, hath lain
For many a long, long year
Now o'er the hearth stones of the dead.
The wild, and thoughtless rudely tread.
And there, the rushing, fiery steeds
In hurried numbers chime,
I come, I come, I show the deeds
Of daring, ruthless time:
The flowers are crushed, the birds are flown.
And crowding throngs are seen,
And what a future day may bring
Cannot be guessed. I ween.
For where the prayer of faith arose,
Strange scenes the evening hours disclose.
What of that boy. the mirthful boy !
What will time's pages tell?
Oh! I have heard--a warrior now
He conquers brave and well.
But not in camp, or tented field,
With sword and bayonet:
No, no ! his voice pleads for the right.
Where listening crowds have met.
And truth's opposing legions fly,
Before that herald of the sky.
And sure, the angels must have taught
That earnest, playful child,
And may I say it?--what we thought.
So wayward once, and wild.
But when a Saviour's love had won,
The wand'ring truant's heart,
All he forsook--to humbly bear
A christian chieftain's part,
And long, and fearlessly has trod.
The battle-fields of Israel's God.
And now--some tokens, we should leave.
Along life's changing ways,
Telling of Him, who kindly leads
Through all our pilgrim days--
And aye, methinks, no better place,
Than where in infancy
We listened first, to love's sweet song.
Still dear to thee and me.
Then brother, come, and help us raise,
A shrine, our Father, God to praise.