Parerga/The Happy Days of Yore

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THE HAPPY DAYS OF YORE.

Air—"DIS MOI SOLDAT."

I.Fill high the bowl! Long years have roll'd above usSince last we met as friend should meet with friend;Our ranks are thinn'd of hearts that best did love us,Yet may our own bound warmly to the end.Though the full glass seem beaming with reflectionsOf pleasures past and comrades now no more,Bright be the soul, and gay our recollections;We'll drink the days—the happy days of yore.
II.Their suns have set; but still the ling'ring splendourGladdens our sky with gleams of past delight;—The long-lost sounds of voices blithe and tenderFrom times gone by are echoed back to-night.They whom we loved, while living loved our pleasures;They wish us blest, if yet they view us more.Deep—as each heart their joyous image treasures—We'll drink the days—the happy days of yore.
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III.Never look back to search for store of sorrow;Memory should be the vassal of the Will.Enough of care the day—enough the morrowWill bring to prove what firmness nerves us still.Pause o'er each bliss the retrospect discloses,Then boldly turn to meet what lies before.Sweet is the Past, though wither'd are its roses;Then drink the days—the happy days of yore.
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