I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from Heaven Than when I was a boy.

I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor brought too long …

And there is ev'n a happiness That makes the heart afraid!

His death which happened in his berth, At forty-odd befell: They went and told the sexton, and The sexton tolled the bell.

Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, …

The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made; Stronger by weakness, wiser, men become As they draw near t…

The day becomes more solemn and serene When noon is past; there is a harmony In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, Which through the summer is not heard or seen,…