Song.

A poem by Walter R. Cassels

The days are past, the days are past,
When we did meet, my love and I;
And youthful joys are fading fast,
Like radiant angels up the sky;
But still with every dawning day
Come back the blessed thoughts of old,
Like sunshine in a morn of May,
To keep the heart from growing cold.

The flowers are gone, the leaves are shed,
That waved about us as we stray'd;
And many a bird for aye has fled,
That chaunted to us from the glade;
Yet every leaf and flower that springs
In beauty round the ripening year,
And every summer carol brings
New sweetness from the old time dear.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Song.' by Walter R. Cassels

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy