TOUT PASSE

Once more I watch the crystal stream

I watched in days gone by;

Once more its waves reflect the gleam

Of Autumn's sunset sky;

Again its banks of gold and green

Seem bursting into flame,—

And yet for me the lovely scene

Can never be the same.

The waves that gleamed here long ago

Have reached a distant sea;

The leaves of that first autumn glow

Have fallen from the tree;

The birds which charmed me with their song

Have long since elsewhere flown,

And I amid a careless throng

Am standing here alone.

This sparkling flood can never quite

Replace the stream of old;

These radiant leaves, however bright,

Wear not the old-time gold;

For evening's light can ne'er retain

The splendor of the dawn,

And naught, alas, can bring again

The faces that are gone.