Ho! I'm going back to where <br />We were youngsters.--Meet me there, <br />Dear old barefoot chum, and we <br />Will be as we used to be,-- <br />Lawless rangers up and down <br />The old creek beyond the town-- <br />Little sunburnt gods at play, <br />Just as in that far-away:-- <br />Water nymphs, all unafraid, <br />Shall smile at us from the brink <br />Of the old millrace and wade <br />Tow'rd us as we kneeling drink <br />At the spring our boyhood knew, <br />Pure and clear as morning-dew: <br /> <br />And, as we are rising there, <br />Doubly dow'rd to hear and see, <br />We shall thus be made aware <br />Of an eerie piping, heard <br />High above the happy bird <br />In the hazel: And then we, <br />Just across the creek, shall see <br />(Hah! the goaty rascal!) Pan <br />Hoof it o'er the sloping green, <br />Mad with his own melody, <br />Aye, and (bless the beasty man!) <br />Stamping from the grassy soil <br />Bruised scents of _fleur-de-lis_, <br />Boneset, mint and pennyroyal.<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/our-boyhood-haunts/
