"Old Times" (1872)
by Frederic Woodman Root, 1846-1916
from page 109 of "The Palace of Song" (1879) by G. F. Root

1.
There's a sweet, sweet song on the slumbrous air,
That drifts thro' the vale of dreams;
It comes from a clime where the roses were,
It comes from a clime where the roses were;
The tuneful heart and the bright brown hair
That rivaled morning's beams.

2.
There's a shade of grief in this oldtime song
That sobs on the slumbrous air,
And loneliness felt in the festive throng,
And loneliness felt in the festive throng,
That fills the soul as it floats along,
From climes where roses were.

3.
Ah! we heard it first at the dawn of day;
It mingled with matin chimes;
But long years have distanced that wondrous lay,
But long years have distanced that wondrous lay,
The cadance cometh from far away;
We call it, now, Old Times.