The Old Days

The old days--the far days-- The overdear and fair!-- The old days--the lost days-- How lovely they were! The old days of Morning, With the dew-drench on the flowers And apple-buds and blossoms Of those old days of ours. Then was the _real_ gold Spendthrift Summer flung; Then was the _real_ song Bird or Poet sung! There was never censure then,-- Only honest praise-- And all things were worthy of it In the old days. There bide the true friends-- The first and the best; There clings the green grass Close where they rest: Would they were here? No;-- Would _we_ were _there_!... The old days--the lost days-- How lovely they were!