Talking In My Sleep

I can see the breezy dome of groves,       The shadows of Deering's Woods; And the friendships old and the early loves Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves       In quiet neighborhoods.             And the verse of that sweet old song,             It flutters and murmurs still:       "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."                                                 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow                   ...

              Our Town                                                    (Click on link to hear Iris DeMent) Strange to me now are the forms I meet       When I visit the dear old town; But the native air is pure and sweet, And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street,       As they balance up and down,             Are singing the beautiful song,             Are sighing and whispering still:       "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."               ...