by: Oliver Wendell Holmes
- ES, dear
departed, cherished days,
- Could Memory's hand restore
- Your morning light, your evening rays,
- From Time's gray urn once more,
- Then might this restless heart be still,
- This straining eye might close,
- And Hope her fainting pinions fold,
- While the fair phantoms rose.
- But, like a child in ocean's arms,
- We strive against the stream,
- Each moment farther from the shore
- Where life's young fountains gleam;
- Each moment fainter wave the fields,
- And wider rolls the sea;
- The mist grows dark, -- the sun goes down, --
- Day breaks, -- and where are we?
MORE POEMS BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES
"Departed Days" is reprinted
from The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes. Oliver
Wendell Holmes. New York: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1892.