When evening shadows gather round,

And work of day is done,

When down the west horizon sinks

The glorious, golden sun,

And sweetly sing the whip-po-wils

Ode to the closing day,

Back to my home among the hills

My visions often stray.

Tho' time from mem'ry may efface

All else that's sweet and tender,

Those happy olden, golden days

I ever shall remember.

Oh, happy, olden, golden days,

Oh, days with sunshine laden,

When I wandered o'er those verdant hills

Where flowers were fair and fields were green,

And trees with blossoms lade,

'Twas there I met and loved and wooed

A little brown-eyed maid;

And oftentimes she'd sing to me

Sweetly her Flower Song,

As o'er those verdant, flowery hills

We gaily strolled along.

But that was years, long years ago,

Yet o'er and o'er again

In dreams I'm with my brown-eyed love,

And hear that sweet refrain.

Tho' death's cold frost has touched my flower,

And bid its life depart,

Yet still within my soul doth live

My little brown-eyed sweetheart.