Lost In Pensive Mood

Reflecting now while in my solitude, I consider the childhood of my past, and find myself now lost in pensive mood; for all good things do end, and never last. O! that the boyhood of my happiness, the gone years of my now dead innocence, would not surrender to life's loneliness, or to its lessons of experience. Though the isolation that was once my curse is but a memory which I barely recall; it is in books that I'm never alone, and in the writing of poems I feel God's call. So, if I never suffered, nor was prone; then none have ever reaped what they have sown.