When I Was Young Long, Long Ago I Dreamed Myself Among The Flowers; And Fancy Drew The Picture So, They Seemed Like Fairies In Their Bowers. The Rose Was Still A Rose, You Know But Yet A Maid. What Could I Do? You Surely Would Not Have Me Go, When Rosy Maidens Seem To Woo? My Heart Was Gay, And 'Mid The Throng I Sported For An Hour Or Two; We Danced The Flowery Paths Along, And Did As Youthful Lovers Do. But Sports Must Cease, And So I Dreamed To Part With These, My Fairy Flowers But Oh, How Very Hard It Seemed To Say Good-By 'Mid Such Sweet Bowers! And One Fair Maid Of Modest Air Gazed On Me With Her Eye Of Blue; I Saw The Tear-Drop Gathering There How Could I Say To Her, Adieu! I Fondly Gave My Hand And Heart, And We Were Wed. Bright Hour Of Youth! How Little Did I Think To Part With My Sweet Bride, Whose Name Was Truth! But Time Passed On, And Truth Grew Gray, And Chided, Though With Gentlest Art: I Loved Her, Though I Went Astray, And Almost Broke Her Faithful Heart. And Then I Left Her, And In Tears These Could Not Move My Hardened Breast! I Wandered, And For Weary Years I Sought For Bliss, But Found No Rest. I Sought Yet Ever Sought In Vain To Find The Peace, The Joy Of Youth: At Last, I Turned Me Back Again, And Found Them With My Faithful Truth.