Songs of A Wayfarer By William Davies |
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| XCV. |
| XCVI. |
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| XCVIII. | XCVIII. THE GOODLY DAYS OF OLD. |
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| CLXXX. |
| CLXXXI. |
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 | Songs of A Wayfarer |  |
XCVIII. THE GOODLY DAYS OF OLD.
O the goodly days of old
Have vanished from the earth,
When merit had its meed,
And humbleness its worth.
Now blatant voices rule
And men are bought and sold;
And quite forget the simple faith
Of the goodly days of old.
Have vanished from the earth,
When merit had its meed,
And humbleness its worth.
Now blatant voices rule
And men are bought and sold;
And quite forget the simple faith
Of the goodly days of old.
98
Then upright statesmen, free
From party motives base,
Ruled for their country's good;
And not for fame and place:
Then right was right, and truth
Was true wherever told;
For men were faithful to themselves
In the goodly days of old.
From party motives base,
Ruled for their country's good;
And not for fame and place:
Then right was right, and truth
Was true wherever told;
For men were faithful to themselves
In the goodly days of old.
Now love is but a name,
And friendship but a show,
And modesty is shame:
It was not always so.
Then trust was trust indeed,
And hearts were brave and bold,
And of their neighbour thought no ill
In the goodly days of old.
And friendship but a show,
And modesty is shame:
It was not always so.
Then trust was trust indeed,
And hearts were brave and bold,
And of their neighbour thought no ill
In the goodly days of old.
The poor was then content:
The wealthy was not proud;
And gentleness in serge
As silken greatness show'd:
Then glory was not bought
With silver or with gold;
For virtue was an heritage
In the goodly days of old.
The wealthy was not proud;
And gentleness in serge
As silken greatness show'd:
Then glory was not bought
With silver or with gold;
For virtue was an heritage
In the goodly days of old.
Then the metal, not the stamp,
Gave the value that it bore:
Men were counted for their worth;
And not for what they wore.
Now words are more than deeds;
And the weak and vain are bold;
Deriding all the nobleness
Of the goodly days of old.
Gave the value that it bore:
Men were counted for their worth;
And not for what they wore.
99
And the weak and vain are bold;
Deriding all the nobleness
Of the goodly days of old.
Now the destitute may die
Whilst the wealthy millionaire
To make his riches more
Doth only strive and care.
Gone is sweet charity;
And hearts are hard and cold
That loved to help the indigent
In the goodly days of old.
Whilst the wealthy millionaire
To make his riches more
Doth only strive and care.
Gone is sweet charity;
And hearts are hard and cold
That loved to help the indigent
In the goodly days of old.
The faith that held its God
In reverence and trust,
And scouted every lie,
Is changed to dust and rust.
Now fashion rules the world,
In headlong passions rolled,
Which makes men hate the liberty
Of the goodly days of old.
In reverence and trust,
And scouted every lie,
Is changed to dust and rust.
Now fashion rules the world,
In headlong passions rolled,
Which makes men hate the liberty
Of the goodly days of old.
Ah, who shall bring us back
Through the selfish din and roar
The leal simplicity
Of the happy times of yore?
Choked in mad ambition,
Lost in the thirst for gold,
They have left the land for evermore,
Those glorious days of old.
Through the selfish din and roar
The leal simplicity
Of the happy times of yore?
Choked in mad ambition,
Lost in the thirst for gold,
They have left the land for evermore,
Those glorious days of old.
| Songs of A Wayfarer | |