Here you will find the Poem Child Thoughts of poet William Henry Drummond
WRITTEN TO COMMEMORATE THE ANNIVER- SARY OF MY BROTHER TOM 'S BIRTHDAY O memory, take my hand to-day And lead me thro' the darkened bridge Washed by the wild Atlantic spray And spanning many a wind-swept ridge Of sorrow, grief, of love and joy, Of youthful hopes and manly fears! O! let me cross the bridge of years And see myself again a boy! The shadows pass- I see the light, O morning light, how clear and strong! My native skies are smiling bright, No more I grope my way along, It comes, the murmur of the tide Upon my ear - I hear the cry Of wandering sea birds as they fly In trooping squadrons far and near. The breeze that blows o'er Mullaghmore I feel against my boyish cheek The white-walled huts that strew the shore From Castlegal to old Belleek, The fisher folk of Donegal, Kindly of heart and strong of arm, Who plough the ocean's treacherous farm, How plainly I behold them all! The thrush's song, the blackbird's note, The wren within the hawthorn hedge, The robin 's swelling vibrant throat, The leveret crouching in the sedge! In those dear days, ah! what was school? When Nature made our pulses thrill! The lessons we remember still Were learnt at Nature's own footstool! 'The hounds are out! the beagles chase Along the slopes of Tawley 's plain!' I rise and follow in the race Till fox, or hare, or both are slain, With heart ablaze, I loose the reins Of all my childish fierce desire, My faith! 't is Ireland plants the fire And iron in her children's veins! The mountain linnet whistles sweet Among the gorse of summer-time, As up the hill with eager feet The sun of morning sees me climb Until at last I sink to rest Where heatherbells swing to the tune That Benbo breezes softly croon- A tired child on the mother's breast! And now in wisdom's riper years, Ah, wisdom! what a price we pay Of sorrow, grief, of smiles and tears, Before we reach that wiser day! We meet to greet in joy and mirth The white-haired parent of us all Our childhood's memories to recall And bless the land that gave us birth.