  Only dreams, aye, dreams forever Haunt my soul and fill my brain With the loved that I may never Meet in this great world again. Springtime seems but fraught with sadness, Though the birds sing just as gay; And there’s still as much of gladness In the blooming, balmy May; And the soft winds play as lightly O’er the verdure and the flowers; And the sun beams just as brightly Over nature’s lovely bowers; And the streamlet and the river Murmur onward to the sea, Singing low with silver quiver Just the same, but not to me; And the twilight dews of even Just as sweet a fragrance shed, And the pale night orbs of heaven Beam the same, though years have fled— Years that brought so many changes, Years that stole my flowers away; Now in fancy only linger Dreams that once were bright as day. Visions of the cot and wildwood Flit before me evermore, But the friends that blest my childhood Meet me at the stream no more. Forms and scenes we loved so well; Smiling faces, tones and voices, Time nor change can e’er dispel. |
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