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Changed

From the outskirts of the town // Where of old the mile-stone stood,

Now a stranger, looking down // I behold the shadowy crown // Of the dark and haunted wood.

Is it changed, or am I changed? // Ah! the oaks are fresh and green,

But the friends with whom I ranged // Through their thickets are estranged // By the years that intervene.

Bright as ever flows the sea, // Bright as ever shines the sun,

But alas! they seem to me // Not the sun that used to be, // Not the tides that used to run.