VI.
Was man once happier than now?
Who is there to tell the story
Of slaves or Cesars of the past?
Still our blood is stirred each spring,
Still books and music make us dream,
Why mourn the “snows of yesteryear?”
Was man once happier than now?
Who is there to tell the story
Of slaves or Cesars of the past?
Still our blood is stirred each spring,
Still books and music make us dream,
Why mourn the “snows of yesteryear?”