Our Good Old Friends

Septimus Winner

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When I dream of the friends of my youth,
And the hearts that were dear to me then,
I turn with a sigh
To the days gone by,
Yet I love to recall them again;

When I dream of the joys that then were mine,
Of the hearts that were gentle and true;
My heart still bends,
To my good old friends,
And I sigh when I bid them adieu.

My heart still bends to my good old friends,
To my good old friends of yore,
And I turn with a sigh
To the days gone by,
And the hearts that shall meet me no more.


When I think of a mother so kind,
And the hearth to my childhood so dear;
Where ever I roam,
I dream of that home
With a sigh that will melt to a tear;

When I think of the hand that led me forth,
And the footsteps that follow'd mine own,
The eyes that smiled,
When they called me a child,
And have faded and left me alone.


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