Poem: On My First Poetical Aspirations by Henry Halloran

I found that others had some natural gift,
The pencil's treasures, or the charmed ear,
Or eloquence of tongue, which far and near
Might find admirers,--and I strove to sift
My own weak self, and seek amidst the drift
And waste of youth, some talent to revere;
And as I grew into my sixteenth year,
Within my spirit stirrings strange and swift
Began to wake, with tears and musings-sad:
I wander'd through the woods, and by the sea,
And in retired places linger'd long,
Until I thought my brain was growing mad,
For sighs of grief, and agonies of glee,     
Came to my lips, and gather'd into song.

First published in The Colonist, 21 May 1835