The Antipodes.

A TOWN, a river, hills and trees,
Blue-bounded by the boundless sky —
Is this the strange antipodes
That baffled young credulity?
Once on a time, of childhood's dreams
This was the very cap and crown;
But now how natural it seems
That down is up, and up is down!
Things on the whole don't look askew:
It's "all serene," somehow or other;
And yet 'tis veritably true
That I am treading on my mother!
Oh, mother dear, forgive the act,
Great Nature's laws my steps control: —
Love leaps o'er all; we are, in fact,
Now more than ever sole to sole!