But love must win upon Brighton Pier!
Lazily lost in a dream we sit—
Maidens’ eyes are a waveless mere—
There’s many a vow when seagulls flit,
And many a sigh when lamps are lit,
And many a kiss upon Brighton Pier.
Dear old friends of the days long fled,
Why did you vanish and leave me here?
Girls are marrying, boys are wed,
Youth is living, but I seem dead,