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Title: Golden Days
Author: Adelaide Anne Procter [
More Titles by Procter]
Golden days--where are they?
Pilgrims east and west
Cry; if we could find them
We would pause and rest:
We would pause and rest a little
From our long and weary ways:-
Where are they, then, where are they--
Golden days?
Golden days--where are they?
Ask of childhood's years,
Still untouched by sorrow,
Still undimmed by tears:
Ah, they seek a phantom Future,
Crowned with brighter, starry rays;--
Where are they, then, where are they--
Golden days?
Golden days--where are they?
Has Love learnt the spell
That will charm them hither,
Near our hearth to dwell?
Insecure are all her treasures,
Restless is her anxious gaze:-
Where are they, then, where are they--
Golden days?
Golden days--where are they?
Farther up the hill
I can hear the echo
Faintly calling still:
Faintly calling, faintly dying,
In a far-off misty haze:-
Where are they, then, where are they--
Golden days?
[The end]
Adelaide Anne Procter's poem: Golden Days
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