Classic Poem

World ain't like it used to be—colder skies in May;
Summer ain't so sweet to me. The little one's away!
Wish the birds a-singing could reach the ones that roam;
Wish the sweet bells ringing could ring my darling home!

Sit here in the sunshine, solemn-like—, and see
Morning glories peeping in where once she used to be;
They loved her little window, with the blossoms and the lights;
Gave her glad good mornings, kissed her sweet good-nights.

Sit here in the darkness, when no winds the maples stir,
And hear the silence singing a sad, sweet song of her;
I know the lilies dream of her, with her the roses roam,
And sunflowers shine like stars of gold and lean to light her home.
World ain't what it used to be—skies are cold and gray;
Summer ain't as sweet to me: The little one's away!
Wish the birds a-singing could reach the ones that roam;
Wish the glad bells ringing could ring my darling home!