Oxford Revisited

I never hear the sound of thy glad bells,
  Oxford, and chime harmonious, but I say,
  Sighing to think how time has worn away,
  Some spirit speaks in the sweet tone that swells,
  Heard after years of absence, from the vale
  Where Cherwell winds. Most true it speaks the tale
  Of days departed, and its voice recalls
  Hours of delight and hope in the gay tide
  Of life, and many friends now scattered wide
  By many fates. Peace be within thy walls!
  I have scarce heart to visit thee; but yet,
  Denied the joys sought in thy shades,--denied
  Each better hope, since my poor Harriet died,
  What I have owed to thee, my heart can ne'er forget!