1 min read
Слушать(AI)The Old Times Were The Best
Friends, my heart is half
Of its happiness to-night:
Though your songs are gay and cheery,
And your spirits feather-light,
There's a ghostly music
Still the heart of every
And a voiceless chorus
That the Old Times were the best.
All about is bright and
With the sound of song and jest,
Yet a feeling's ever
That the Old Times were the best.
James Whitcomb Riley
James Whitcomb Riley (October 7, 1849 – July 22, 1916) was an American writer, poet, and best-selling author. During his lifetime he was known a
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Orlie Wilde
A goddess, with a siren's grace,—A sun-haired girl on a craggy Above a bay where fish-boats Drifting about like birds of prey Wrought was she of a painter's dream,—Wise only as are artists wise,
Her Beautiful Hands
Your hands--they are strangely fair O Fair--for the jewels that sparkle there,--Fair--for the witchery of the That ivory keys alone can tell; But when their delicate touches
The Ripest Peach
The ripest peach is highest on the tree — And so her love, beyond the reach of me, Is dearest in my sight Sweet breezes, bow Her heart down to me where I worship now She looms aloft where every eye may see The ripest peach is highes...
There Was A Cherry-Tree
There was a cherry-tree Its bloomy snows Cool even now the fevered sight that knows No more its airy visions of pure joy — As when you were a boy There was a cherry-tree The Bluejay sat His blue against its white — O blue as jet He ...
