Thou city of my boyhood! Ere I dreamt
My footsteps yet would be upon thy streets
My thoughts were with thee, and thy name to me
Was as a spell to waken up the great
Who made thee great, and left behind the spell
To draw the pilgrim. In my heart I heard
The many voices speak that spoke to thee
In the far past, and all their echoes rang
From hill to hill of history. I became
Familiar with thy face though never seen,
And all my worship—as a lover dreams
And pictures to himself some dear, sweet face
To bend above his life—was sweeter thus.
Then, in the pauses of my daily toil,
In quiet moments when the village slept,
I was with thee; and in my nightly dreams
I walked the storied pavement of thy streets—
And now I am a citizen of thine.