They’re gone now, the old days,
And they will never return,
Like water down the river
And wind through the fern.
Everything comes back sometime,
Except ourselves alone,
And the times that were happy
And the friends that we’ve known.
So the days go onward
And the glory fails,
There’s nothing much left now
Except my tales,
Just what I remember,
I and the wind,
Stronger now, and sharper,
Since the woods are thinned.
~Louis Morgan
