The Sunny Hours of Childhood.
The sunny, sunny hours of childhood.
How soon, how soon they pass away,
Like flowers, like flowers in the wildwood,
That once bloomed fresh and gay;
But the perfume of the flowers,
And the freshness of the heart,
Live but a few brief hours,
And then for age depart.
The friends, the friends we saw around us,
In boyhood's happy, happy days,
The fairy, fairy links that bound us,
No feeling now displays;
For, time hath changed forever
What youth cannot retain,
And we may know, Oh! never.
These sunny hours again.