To Miss L. M. Mathews
"The Graves of Long Ago" (1856)
Ballad
Sung by Mr. Percival
at Buckley's Opera House New York.
The Words from "The Home Journal"
Music by John Rogers Thomas, 1830-1896

Buffalo: Sheppard & Cottier, 266 Main St.
[Source: @NYPL]

1. Seek not my love with earnest words,
Alas it is in vain;
Thou cans't not to my heart restore,
Its sunny youth again.
Thou cans't not bid the wither'd flow'rs,
Wake from their autumn tomb,
To greet the morning as of yore
In all their life and bloom.
Thou cans't not bid departed hopes,
Renew their early glow,
My summer sunshine faded o'er
The graves of long ago.

2. My hours of bliss have passed away,
I've laid them all to rest;
Each with her crown of happy dreams,
Close folded to her breast.
Their pallid lips can breathe no more
In whispers of the past;
Their shining eyes are softly closed--
They sleep in peast at last.
I've heaped above their resting place,
In dif'rence chill as snow;
My brightest joys lie buried in
The graves of long ago.

3. Hushed are the glad and gushing notes,
That hailed my matin prime;
The joy-bells, that around my way
Rang out their merry chime
And though the holy sounds of night,
Fell gently as the dew,
Sheding in to my soul a peace
My girlhood never knew;
Those merry tones of glee no more
Are mine; but calmer so,
My heart keeps silent vigil by
The graves of long ago.