The sportive hopes that used to chase their shifting shadows on,
Like children playing in the sun, are gone—for ever gone;
And on a careless, sullen peace, my double-fronted mind,
Like Janus, when his gates are shut, looks forward and behind. Apollo placed his harp, of old, awhile upon a stone,
Which has resounded since, when struck, a breaking harp string's tone;
And thus my heart, though wholly now from early softness free,
If touch'd, will yield the music yet, it first received of thee.


A Picture Song.

Edward Coote Pinkney Quotes

The sportive hopes that used to chase their shifting shadows on, Like children playing in the sun, are gone—for ever gone; And on a careless,...

The sportive hopes that used to chase their shifting shadows on, Like children playing in the sun, are gone—for ever gone; And on a careless,...