LAMB, Charles


The Old Familiar Faces

I have had playmates, I have had companions,

In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days,

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I have been laughing, I have been carousing,

Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies,

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I loved a love once, fairest among women;

Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her -

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man;

Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;

Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.

Ghost-like, I paced round the haunts of my childhood.

Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse,

Seeking to find the old familiar faces.

Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother,

Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling?

So might we talk of the old familiar faces -

How some they have died, and some they have left me,

And some are taken from me; all are departed;

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

A timid grace sits tembling in her eye

A timid grace sits trembling in her eye,

As loath to meet the rudeness of men's sight,

Yet shedding a delicious lunar light

That steeps in kind oblivious ecstasy

The care-crazed mind, like some still melody:

Speaking most plain the thoughts which do possess

Her gentle sprite: peace, and meek quietness,

And innocent loves, and maiden purity:

A look whereof might heal the cruel smart

Of changed friends, or fortune's wrongs unkind:

Might to sweet deeds of mercy move the heart

Of him who hates his brethren of mankind.

Turned are those lights from me, who fondly yet

Past joys, vain loves, and buried hopes regret.


A Vision of Repentance

I saw a famous fountain, in my dream,

Where shady path-ways to a valley led;

A weeping willow lay upon that stream,

And all around the fountain brink were spread

Wide branching trees, with dark green leaf rich clad,

Forming a doubtful twilight-desolate and sad.

The place was such, that whoso enter'd in,

Disrobed was of every earthly thought,

And straight became as one that knew not sin,

Or to the world's first innocence was brought;

Enseem'd it now, he stood on holy ground,

In sweet and tender melancholy wrapt around.

A most strange calm stole o'er my soothed sprite;

Long time I stood, and longer had I staid,

When, lo! I saw, saw by the sweet moon-light,

Which came in silence o'er that silent shade,

Where, near the fountain, something like despair

Made, of that weeping willow, garlands for her hair.

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