At La Chaudeau,--'tis long since then: <br />I was young,--my years twice ten; <br />All things smiled on the happy boy, <br />Dreams of love and songs of joy, <br />Azure of heaven and wave below, <br />At La Chaudeau. <br /> <br />At La Chaudeau I come back old: <br />My head is gray, my blood is cold; <br />Seeking along the meadow ooze, <br />Seeking beside the river Seymouse, <br />The days of my spring-time of long ago <br />At La Chaudeau. <br /> <br />At La Chaudeau nor heart nor brain <br />Ever grows old with grief and pain; <br />A sweet remembrance keeps off age; <br />A tender friendship doth still assuage <br />The burden of sorrow that one may know <br />At La Chaudeau. <br /> <br />At La Chaudeau, had fate decreed <br />To limit the wandering life I lead, <br />Peradventure I still, forsooth, <br />Should have preserved my fresh green youth, <br />Under the shadows the hill-tops throw <br />At La Chaudeau. <br /> <br />At La Chaudeau, live on, my friends, <br />Happy to be where God intends; <br />And sometimes, by the evening fire, <br />Think of him whose sole desire <br />Is again to sit in the old chateau <br />At La Chaudeau.<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-harbour-at-la-chaudeau-from-the-french-of-charles-coran/
