Parting.
There is never a parting on this old earth,
Let it be with the living or dead,
But is tinged with a sadness from memory's birth,
Of the "might-have-been" there in its stead.
Let it be with the living or dead,
But is tinged with a sadness from memory's birth,
Of the "might-have-been" there in its stead.
There is always regret for a something that's lost,
And a wish we had only known
More of this friend, at whatever the cost,
Whose life may have aided our own.
And a wish we had only known
More of this friend, at whatever the cost,
Whose life may have aided our own.
A something from out of one's life has flown,
An echoless room is left bare;
For every heart has a niche of its own,
And a place in your own to share.
An echoless room is left bare;
For every heart has a niche of its own,
And a place in your own to share.
It may be with pleasure, it may be with pain,
We voice the simple "Good-bye,"
But we catch a note of the old refrain
That sings of forever and aye.
We voice the simple "Good-bye,"
But we catch a note of the old refrain
That sings of forever and aye.
—17—
