 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
THERE'S A CHARM IN THE PAST.
There's a charm in the past which the present ne'er knows,
For the present too plainly each fault can disclose,
While the past thro' the haze of affection is seen,
And mem'ry beholds but the joys that have been:
That twilight of mem'ry will linger so long—
Like the soul-touching strain of some favourite song,
Or like soft clouds of evening, that, ling'ring, invite
The glow of the sunset ere day fades to night—
Oh, as long as a pulse of the fond heart may last,
There's a charm in the past—there's a charm in the past.
For the present too plainly each fault can disclose,
While the past thro' the haze of affection is seen,
And mem'ry beholds but the joys that have been:
That twilight of mem'ry will linger so long—
Like the soul-touching strain of some favourite song,
Or like soft clouds of evening, that, ling'ring, invite
The glow of the sunset ere day fades to night—
Oh, as long as a pulse of the fond heart may last,
There's a charm in the past—there's a charm in the past.
There's a charm in the past to the future unknown,
For the past can reveal but the joys once our own,
While the joys of the future in fancy we see,
Are but dreams of the fond heart—that never may be:
Then give me the flow'rs I can pluck from the past,
To wreathe round life's cup while the frail bowl may last,
Tho' the flowers be all wither'd, enough they impart
Of the incense that made them once dear to the heart—
Oh! as long as a pulse of the fond heart may last,
There's a charm in the past—there's a charm in the past.
For the past can reveal but the joys once our own,
While the joys of the future in fancy we see,
Are but dreams of the fond heart—that never may be:
Then give me the flow'rs I can pluck from the past,
To wreathe round life's cup while the frail bowl may last,
Tho' the flowers be all wither'd, enough they impart
Of the incense that made them once dear to the heart—
Oh! as long as a pulse of the fond heart may last,
There's a charm in the past—there's a charm in the past.
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |