OH, TELL. ME NOT OF OTHER DAYS!
On, tell me not of other days!
For, oh! the voiceless past
But mirrors forth a thousand rays
Of brightness overcast.
For, oh! the voiceless past
But mirrors forth a thousand rays
Of brightness overcast.
The sunny days that fleeted by
When the heart was young in grief—
These are the days that memory
Brings back in strong relief.
When the heart was young in grief—
These are the days that memory
Brings back in strong relief.
The brightening hope that darker grew
Beneath the frown of care;
The joyous tone that only knew
An echo in despair;
Beneath the frown of care;
The joyous tone that only knew
An echo in despair;
The beaming smile that seemed to tell
Of future days of joy,—
Of future days of joy,—
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