Our Cottage In The Vale

I remomber many forms That were dear 'm éarly yeara, When lile was like tho sweet spring-lime, Sunshiiiy in ita tears : Froni memory's palé, uncertain page, The liamos liave passed away, 'ÍIio voices echo round me still, The merry cries of plaj : oíd, (loüalited oft wcmld seem, Amoiig us ghlb and buys, Grew yonug again. ov seemed to do, Ainid our lc( and noise : And the thrashér with his (lail, And the niilkniaid -hitli lier pail, Aio (aingled in the memory Oí' our cotiage in tlie vale. When many yrars had passed and gone, Again I soxight ihat scene ; 'i 'he leaf'y wood, the sinaiDg stream Were, Hiere, our happy green And merry children blithe as v.c, Were out witli hoop and hall, But ah ! niy matea like birdshadflown, None ansHi'inl to my cali : Our hum ble cottage swept away, The sai den choked with weed : Ainid the wreek one rose I found, A prize, though none else heed ; And he thrasher with his flail, And the milkniaid with her pail, Come mingled with the memory Ot' our cottage in the vale.