The Days That Are Past

We will not deplore them, the days that are past;
The gloom of misfortune is over them cast;
They are lengthen'd by sorrow and sullied by care;
Their griefs were too many, their joys were too rare;
Yet, now that their shadows are on us no more,
Let us welcome the prospect that brightens before!
We have cherish'd fair hopes, we have plotted brave schemes,
We have lived till we find them illusive as dreams;
Wealth has melted like snow that is grasp'd in the hand,
And the steps we have climb'd have departed like sand;
Yet shall we despond while of health unbereft,
And honour, bright honour, and freedom are left?
O! shall we despond, while the pages of time
Yet open before us their records sublime!
While, ennobled by treasures more precious than gold,
We can walk with the martyrs and heroes of old;
While humanity whispers such truths in the ear,
As it softens the heart like sweet music to hear?
O! shall we despond while, with visions still free,
We can gaze on the sky, and the earth, and the sea;
While the sunshine can waken a burst of delight,
And the stars are a joy and a glory by night:
While each harmony, running through nature, can raise
In our spirits the impulse of gladness and praise?
O! let us no longer then vainly lament
Over scenes that are faded and days that are spent:
But, by faith unforsaken, unawed by mischance,
On hope's waving banner still fix'd be our glance;
And, should fortune prove cruel and false to the last,
Let us look to the future and not to the past!