Poetry Archives

A string of shiny days we had,
  A spotless sky, a yellow sun;
And neither you nor I was sad
  When that was through and done.

But when, one day, a boy comes by
  And pleads me with your happiest vow,
“There was a lad I knew—” I’ll sigh,
  “I do not know him now.”

And when another girl shall pass
  And speak a little name I said,
Then you will say, “There was a lass—
  I wonder is she dead.”

And each of us will sigh, and start
  A-talking of a faded year,
And lay a hand above a heart,
  And dry a pretty tear.