The Old Friends

The old friends, the old fnends loved when wc were young, Witli eunshine on tbeir facea An.l muslo on tUeir tonguesl The hees :ire in the ahnond flower, Tbc birda renew their straiu, But thci old fricnds, onco lost to us. Can never come again. The uld friends, the old friendsl Thcir brow ia liiud with care; They'vo fnrrows In Ihe fadud cheek And allver In the h;iir, Btit to mo they aro tho old friencj9 still, In youth and bloom the same As when we drovo the fiying ball Or slioutcd in the game. Tho old men, tho old men, How slow thcy creep alongl How nangbtily we soofled at them In days when we were youngl Tlicir prosing and their dozing, Their prate of times gone by, Theïr shiver like an aspen leaf If but a breath went by. But we, we are the old men now, Our blood is faint and chili ; We cannot leap the niighty brook Or clinib the breakneck hill. We maunder down tho shortest cuta, rest on stick or stile, And the young mfn, half ashamed to laugh Yet pass us with a smile. But the young men, tho young men, Their ftrcngth is f:'.ir to see- The straight bark and the springy stride, Tlu eye as falcon free, Tho shout above the frolic wind A:i -.p the hill they go, But though so high above us now They soon shull bo as low. Oh, weary, weary dracj tlie years As lifo draws near the end, And sadly, sadly fall the tcars For loss of lovo and friend. But we'll not doubt there's good about In ;:11 of hur.ian kind ; So hcre's a health before we go To those we leavo behind.