Sonnet Vi.

AH, many a time our memory slips aside And leaves the round of present cares and joys, To live again the time when we were boys; To call our parents back with love and pride; To see again the dear ones who have died; To dream once more amid the household toys, The sports, the jests, the masquerades, the noise, The blaze and sparkle of the wood fireside; The books, the drawings, and the merry press Around the blithe tea-board; the evenings long; Rattling backgammon and still, solemn chess; And best of all when instrument and song Bore us to visionary lands and streams, And crowned our nights with coronals of dreams.