In the morn of playful childhood,
With dear friends 'mid sylvan bowers,
O'er the fields and through the wildwood,
Culling all the choicest flow'rs;
Twining wreaths, each other crowning,
Dew-drops bright for royal gems,
Ne'er a thought of worldly frowning
On the precious diadems.
Marched we on with true devotion,
While the scenes of after years,
Stirr'd the spirits deep emotion,
With alternate hopes and fears.
While before us lay life's prizes,
Dazzling in the sunlight gleam,--
How we gazed with sad surprises,
When they vanished like a dream.
Many happy hearts grew weary,
Rosy cheeks grew pale and white,
Pleasant paths grew dark and dreary,
Swept by storms of withering blight;
How the changing years have fleeted,
Strewing wrecks on either side,
Cherished schemes have been defeated,
And the cares of age abide.
But when cheery Spring advances,
Crowned with gems of beauty rare,
Pleasure like a fairy, dances
O'er the landscape everywhere,
And the tide of life flows higher,
Gloom's dark curtains are withdrawn,
And again youth's hidden fire,
Thrills me as in life's fresh dawn.
JAMES McCAULEY.
James McCauley was born August 23, 1809, near Mechanics Valley, in Cecil
county, and received his education in the log schoolhouse in that
neighborhood known as Maffit's schoolhouse.
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