Since those bright days of long ago,
When, hand in hand, in Life's sweet spring,
We told our love in accents low.
For you were young, and fair, and free,
And I a youth with ardor bold;
You were, of all earth's maids, to me
The fairest—ah, the story's old!
Our youthful fancy in the years
That now lie far behind, anew
Springs forth from memories Time endears,