OH, THE DAYS WHEN I WAS YOUNG!
Oh, the days when I was young,
A playful little boy,
When my piping treble rung
To the notes of early joy.
Oh, the sunny days of spring,
When I sat beside the shore,
And heard the small birds sing; -
Shall I never hear them more?
And the daisies scatter'd round,
Half hid amid the grass,
Lay like gems upon the ground,
Too gay for me to pass.
How sweet the milkmaid sung,
As she sat beside her cow,
How clear her wild notes rung; -
There's no music like it now.
As I watch'd the ship's white sail
'Mid the sunbeams on the sea,
Spreading canvas to the gale -
How I long'd with her to be.
I thought not of the storm,
Nor the wild cries on her deck,
When writhed her graceful form
'Mid the hurricane and wreck.
And I launch'd my little ship,
With her sails and hold beneath;
Deep laden on each trip,
With berries from the heath.
Ah, little did I know,
When I long'd to be a man,
Of the gloomy cares and woe,
That meet in life's brief span.
Oh, the happy nights I lay
With my brothers in their beds,
Where we soundly slept till day
Shone brightly o'er our heads.
And the blessed dreams that came
To fill my heart with joy.
Oh, that I now could dream,
As I dreamt, a little boy.
