The Old Times Were The Best by James Whitcomb Riley

Friends, my heart is half aweary
…Of its happiness to-night;
Though your songs are gay and cheery,
…And your spirits feather-light,
There’s a ghostly music haunting
…Still the heart of every guest
And a voiceless chorus chanting
…That the Old Times were the best. 

Chorus: 

All about is bright and pleasant
…With the sound of song and jest,
Yet a feeling’s ever present
…That the Old Times were the best.

 

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