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.