Not only echoes from the past
Talk to us in that tender phrase;
It rings upon our hearts at last,
A watchword for the coming days:
When, having reached those heights of rest,
We point to where we stood below;
And how we scaled each tedious crest,
With hopes how faint, and steps how slow!
How once we shrank from toils which prove
The test and triumph of our might;
And once we basely doubted Love,
Which now surrounds us with its light.
O! that we could this hour begin
The lesson of our evening time,
And say to parting, pain, and sin,
“We knew you—once upon a time!”
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