It is so with the hearts of men.
Even your pride cannot rob
My life of its blessed past;
You cannot recall one throb,
One glance of the many cast
From those dear, passionate eyes;
These things will be mine to the last.
It is so with the hearts of men.
Even your pride cannot rob
My life of its blessed past;
You cannot recall one throb,
One glance of the many cast
From those dear, passionate eyes;
These things will be mine to the last.