At La Chaudeau

At La Chaudeau, 't is long since then,
I was young,— my years twice ten,-
All things smiled on the happy boy,
Dreams of love and songs of joy,
Azure of heaven, and wave below,
At La Chaudeau.

To La Chaudeau I come back old,
My head is gray, my blood is cold,
Seeking along the meadow ooze,
Seeking beside the river Seymouse,
The days of my spring-time of long ago
At La Chaudeau.

At La Chaudeau nor heart nor brain
Ever grows old with grief and pain;
A sweet remembrance keeps off age,
A tender friendship doth still assuage
The burden of sorrow that one may know
At La Chaudeau.

At La Chaudeau, had fate decreed
To limit the wandering life I lead,
Peradventure I still forsooth
Should have preserved my fresli, green youth,
Under the shadows the hill-tops throw
At La Chaudeau.

At La Chaudeau, live on, my friends,
Happy to be where God intends;
And sometimes by the evening fire
Think of him whose sole desire
Is again to sit in the old chateau
At La Chaudeau.