the dying year.
121
Why should we mourn for by-gone hours,
Too bright and fair to last?
O'er our shatter'd hopes, youth's gayest dream
Long buried in the hoary past?—
Dark without, and sore dark within
Sad, dim, alas! and grey:
Yet time must come, and time must go
Until the last great Judgment day!
Too bright and fair to last?
O'er our shatter'd hopes, youth's gayest dream
Long buried in the hoary past?—
Dark without, and sore dark within
Sad, dim, alas! and grey:
Yet time must come, and time must go
Until the last great Judgment day!
