When I Was a Boy
Up in the attic where I sleptWhen I was a boy, a little boy,In through the lattice the moonlight crept,Bringing a tide of dreams that sweptOver the low, red trundle-bed,Bathing the tangled curly head,While moonbeams played at hide-and-seekWith the dimples on the sun-browned cheek—When I was a boy, a little boy!
And, oh! the dreams—the dreams I dreamed!When I was a boy, a little boy!For the grace that through the lattice streamedOver my folded eyelids seemedTo have the gift of prophecy,And to bring me glimpses of times to beWhen manhood’s clarion seemed to call—Ah! that was the sweetest dream of all,When I was a boy, a little boy!
I’d like to sleep where I used to sleepWhen I was a boy, a little boy!For in at the lattice the moon would peep,Bringing her tide of dreams to sweepThe crosses and griefs of the years awayFrom the heart that is weary and faint to-day;And those dreams should give me back againA peace I have never known since then—When I was a boy, a little boy!