Recall, my friend, the days when sent to school, We framed our first idea of tyrant rule. Long ere we turned the world’s dark pages o’er, Glued with the vassal’s tears, the martyr’s gore— Knew that a Cæsar passed a Rubicon, Or wrongful Britain laid a Stamp-act on, We drudged in study at another’s will, While the free light fell warm on wood and hill— Wrought with the service of an eye askance, Beneath a master’s rogue-detecting glance: Possessed with fear, lest trick or task might draw The rod that fell without the forms of law; Possessed with wrath to see our wealth expire— Tops, apples, penknives in the penal fire. How oft the slate, whose sable field should show Platoons of figures ranked in studied row— Squadrons of sums arrayed in careful lines— Victualled with grocer’s bills of fruits and wines, Betrayed a scene that crowned a day’s disgrace, Before that sternly, sadly smiling face— Trees, houses, elephants, and dogs and men, Where half the Arabian’s science should have been; And only this much learned, of figured lore, That time subtracted—always left a score. But when those long-loved hours were come, that took From those reveréd hands the rod and book, Our, like all vassal hearts, set quickly free, Sought at a bound the largest liberty. Self-exiled then, to meadow stream and wood, We dropped half-read the tale of Robin Hood; Though guiltless of his suits of Lincoln green, Dear, as to him, was every sylvan scene. Shade of old Crusoe, with thy dog and gun, And thy lone isle beneath a southern sun! Shades of the lords that made such rare disport Beneath the oaks of Arden’s rural court! As o’er my little day I cast my view, Contrasting what I know, with what I knew, Your lot no hardship seems: to you were given The world of nature and the lights of heaven, What time the sun came flaming from the deep, Bursting the curtained clouds of morning sleep, Or night, majestic, paced the solemn skies, Wrapped in a woof of starry mysteries— All times, all seasons, as they came and went, Soothed with sweet thought the ills of banishment. No rude, unbidden guest invaded there, Nor the harsh din of congregated care; The heart, all ruffled in the haunts of men, Like to a quiet sea became again— Like to the deep reflection of the skies, Its faith-born hopes, and sage moralities.