Those days have gone, those happy days,
When we two loved to roam,
Beside the rivulet that strays,
Near by my rustic home.
Yes, they have fled, and in the past,
We've left them far behind,
Yet dear I hold, those days of old,
When you were true and kind.
You dreamed not then of wealth or fame,
The world was bright and fair,
I seldom knew a grief or game,
That you, too, did not share.
And though I mourn my hapless fate,
In mem'ry's store I find,
And dearly hold those days of old,
When you were true and kind.
Say, can the wealth you now possess,
Such happiness procure,
As did our youthful pleasures bless,
When both our hearts were pure?
No,—and though wandering apart,
I strive to be resigned;
And dearer hold those days of old,
When you were true and kind.
And if your thoughts should turn to me,
With one pang of regret,
Know that this heart, still beats for thee,
And never will forget;
Those tender links of long ago
Are round my heart entwined,
And dear I hold those days of old,
When you were true and kind.