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But o'er the past we linger still
With melancholy gaze,
And think we ne'er again can feel
As in those merry days.
With melancholy gaze,
And think we ne'er again can feel
As in those merry days.
We love to trace again the dreams,
The thoughts of other years,
While o'er that land of memory streams
A sunshine blent with tears!
And still beams forth, in golden dyes,
The light of early day,
While every cloud on those bright skies
Has almost fled away.
The thoughts of other years,
While o'er that land of memory streams
A sunshine blent with tears!
And still beams forth, in golden dyes,
The light of early day,
While every cloud on those bright skies
Has almost fled away.
And yet—oh! wayward hearts and strange!
While o'er the past we grieve,
Our present lot we would not change
For all this world can give:
One blessing that entwines us now
We would not see decay,
For all the sunshine and the glow
Of youth's most brilliant day.
While o'er the past we grieve,
Our present lot we would not change
For all this world can give:
One blessing that entwines us now
We would not see decay,
For all the sunshine and the glow
Of youth's most brilliant day.
But still, that holy melody
Awakes within my breast
Remembrances that cannot die,
And thoughts that will not rest.
Old times return, old feelings rush
Upon my heart again,
Till all is lost in that deep gush
Of mingled joy and pain.
Awakes within my breast
Remembrances that cannot die,
And thoughts that will not rest.
Old times return, old feelings rush
Upon my heart again,
Till all is lost in that deep gush
Of mingled joy and pain.
