Oxford Revisited

I never hear the sound of thy glad bells, Oxford, and chime harmonious, but I say, Sighing to think how time has worn away, Some spirit speaks in the sweet tone that swells, Heard after years of absence, from the vale Where Cherwell winds. Most true it speaks the tale Of days departed, and its voice recalls Hours of delight and hope in the gay tide Of life, and many friends now scattered wide By many fates. Peace be within thy walls! I have scarce heart to visit thee; but yet, Denied the joys sought in thy shades,--denied Each better hope, since my poor Harriet died, What I have owed to thee, my heart can ne'er forget!