Once more I watch the crystal stream
I watched in days gone by;
Once more its waves reflect the gleam
Of Autumn's sunset sky;
Again its banks of gold and green
Seem bursting into flame,--
And yet for me the lovely scene
Can never be the same.
The waves that gleamed here long ago
Have reached a distant sea;
The leaves of that first autumn glow
Have fallen from the tree;
The birds which charmed me with their song
Have long since elsewhere flown,
And I amid a careless throng
Am standing here alone.
This sparkling flood can never quite
Replace the stream of old;
These radiant leaves, however bright,
Wear not the old-time gold;
For evening's light can ne'er retain
The splendor of the dawn,
And naught, alas, can bring again
The faces that are gone.