Adown The West A Golden Glow Sinks Burning In The Sea, And All The Dreams Of Long Ago Come Flooding Back To Me. The Past Has Writ A Story Strange Upon My Aching Heart, But Time Has Wrought A Subtle Change, My Wounds Have Ceased To Smart. No More The Quick Delight Of Youth, No More The Sudden Pain, I Look No More For Trust Or Truth Where Greed May Compass Gain. What, Was It I Who Bared My Heart Through Unrelenting Years, And Knew The Sting Of Misery'S Dart, The Tang Of Sorrow'S Tears? 'Tis Better Now, I Do Not Weep, I Do Not Laugh Nor Care; My Soul And Spirit Half Asleep Drift Aimless Everywhere. We Float Upon A Sluggish Stream, We Ride No Rapids Mad, While Life Is All A Tempered Dream And Every Joy Half Sad.