The Dramatists
A string of shiny days we had,
A spotless sky, a yellow sun;
And neither you nor I was sad
When that was through and done.
But when, one day, a boy comes by
And pleads me with your happiest vow,
“There was a lad I knew—” I’ll sigh,
“I do not know him now.”
And when another girl shall pass
And speak a little name I said,
Then you will say, “There was a lass–
I wonder is she dead.”
And each of us will sigh, and start
A-talking of a faded year,
And lay a hand above a heart,
And dry a pretty tear.
