Our fathers bore the deepest woe, Through burning sun and drifting snow; They fought for seven long years, that we Might have this glorious liberty. And while the years do roll their round, And may they shield our ensign, too, The champion of all lands and seas! From east to west, from north to south, That glorious tree protected will stand The joy of the true, and the pride of our land, They are Passing Away. HEY are passing away, those fleeting years, Like leaves on the river cast, They wait not for man, but onward they flow; Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, they go Into the wonderful past. They are gliding past like a weaver's thread, And straight as the lightning's pointed gleam, And soft as the gentle summer's breeze, And daintly ripples the glassy stream. They are gliding past, like the thistles down, And still as the midnight dream, And pure as the lark, when she tunes her throat To sing in the woodland her sweetest note; Those fleeting years so tender they seem. Yes, they are passing, one by one, Down the steps of time sò rare; We stop and think of their noiseless tread, Of the centuries past, and long since dead, That were beautiful and fair. Our years are few, though to some are given But that is a short and toilsome stay, So rapid they fly from mortals below, As swift as an arrow from the archer's bow; Bear each one onward through bliss and woe. As our years are few and fleeting, too, all we trample them under our busy feetose beautiful years, so precious and sweet As we travel the pathway of life? d while our years are lengthened out, Lamentation. ARK! what mournful sounds we hear, And can't be healed. A wife, she lisped the name of one She deeply mourned, and dearly loved; Whose footsteps she would hear no more, Whose spirit was in heaven above. And loving sisters, when they meet, And see the vacant chairs of two, Whose looks are bright as when they left'Twas brother John and Lew! |