THE DEAD PAST.
Yrb, gone—for ever gone I We cannot now recall The vanislied-houra of other days, Yet still their shadows fall And cast a sbactß o’er all the light, As when tho sun has set at night. The hopes of other days, When life was bright and fair; It seemed as though the future time Would be as free from care ; But as the years went awiftly by, Tbe dark clouds gathered iu our sky. We saw the prbmise sweet, Of fairest, sweetest, flowers ; They withered even at our feet, Ere we could call thorn oura.. It might have been and yet was not, Oh 1 can it ever be forgot ? Although the past is dead, Its memory still is luu® s The happy tones of other days Still echo in our ear. The sound is sad—a note of woe : It might have beeif, yet was not so I
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Poverty Bay Standard, Volume III, Issue 331, 8 December 1875, Page 2
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150THE DEAD PAST. Poverty Bay Standard, Volume III, Issue 331, 8 December 1875, Page 2
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