Bluebells

Oh Bluebells, dainty bluebells,

On slender stems aquiver,

Do you see your fair reflection

In the ripples of the river;

Oh bluebells, gently swaying,

Is it but a year ago

We sat upon the mossy bank,

And watched the river flow.

The ripples danced and sparkled

In the sunlight’s golden rays,

And birds gave of their sweetest,

In an ecstasy of praise;

The summer wind blew softly,

Of time we took no heed;

When we picked the dainty bluebells,

And life was sweet indeed.

The bluebells sway and quiver,

On every passing breeze,

And a burst of joyous music

Comes from the leafy trees;

But the waters of the river,

That flows onward to the sea,

Like the years that are gone forever,

Can come back no more to me.