Ballad of Past Delight
Where are the dreams of the days gone by,
The hopes of honour, the glancing play
Of fire-new fancies that filled our sky—
The songs we sang in the middle May,
Carol and ballad and roundelay?
Where are the garlands our young hands twined?
Life’s but a memory, well-away!
All else flits past on the wings of the wind.
Where are the ladies fair and high—
Marie and Alice and Maud and May
And merry Madge with the laughing eye—
And all the gallants of yesterday
That held us merry—ah, where are they?
Under the mould we must look to find
Some; and the others are worn and grey.
All else flits past on the wings of the wind.
I know of nothing that lasts, not I,
Save a heart that is true to its love alway—
A love that is won with tear and sigh
And never changes or fades away,
In a breast that is oftener sad than gay;
A tender look and a constant mind—
These are the only things that stay:
All else flits past on the wings of the wind.
Envoy.
Prince, I counsel you, never say,
Alack for the years that are left behind!
Look you keep love when your dreams decay;
All else flits past on the wings of the wind.
John Payne.