Where thine infant days were spent?

Is thy native land forgotten,
Where glad parents, filled with joy,
Prayed for heaven's richest blessings
To attend their infant boy?

Is thy native land forgotten,
Laud where thou first drew thy breath,
Where those sainted parents watched thee,
Where they closed their eyes in death?

Is thy native land forgotten?
Or dost thou revere the sod
Where thy heart for sin was broken,
Where thy soul found peace with God?

Is that sacred stream forgotten,
Where, immersed beneath the flood,
Saying, "I with Christ am buried,
And henceforth will live to God?"

Is that hallowed spot forgotten?
Or does fancy paint it now,
With bright angels hov'ring o'er it
Waiting to record that vow?

Are thy brothers all forgotten,
Playmates 'neath New England's skies?
When thy sisters' names are mentioned,