And so I wandered off alone,
To seek the friends from youth I’d known.
The brook came dashing down the hill,
The same old song to hum and trill;
With glances shy and kisses sweet,
It wound its ribbon at my feet,
And laughed aloud at my delight—
It was indeed a comic sight
To see me o’er the brooklet bend,
And greet again an old time friend.