Oh Thou, That Prattling On Thy Pebbled Way Through My Paternal Vale Dost Stray, Working Thy Shallow Passage To The Sea! Oh, Stream, Thou Speedest On The Same As Many Seasons Gone; But Not, Alas, To Me Remain The Feelings That Beguiled My Early Road, When, Careless And Content, (Losing The Hours In Pastimes Innocent) Upon Thy Banks I Strayed A Playful Child; Whether The Pebbles That Thy Margin Strew, Collecting, Heedlessly I Threw; Or Loved In Thy Translucent Wave My Tender Shrinking Feet To Lave; Or Else Ensnared Your Little Fry, And Thought How Wondrous Skilled Was I! So Passed My Boyish Days, Unknown To Pain, Days That Will Ne'er Return Again. It Seems But Yesterday I Was A Child, To-Morrow To Be Gray! So Years Succeeding Years Steal Silently Away. Not Fleeter Thy Own Current, Hurrying Thee, Rolls Down To The Great Sea. Thither Oh Carry These Sad Thoughts; The Deep Bury Them! Thou, Meantime, Thy Tenor Keep, And Winding Through The Green-Wood, Cheer, As Erst, My Native, Peaceful Pastures Here.