Golden days
C. Pye
An hour or two of dreamy talk
Along the old grey garden walk,
A stroll in that sweet hawthorn glade
Where long ago our vows were made;
The deep'ning twilight soft and grey
To shed around our homeward way,
The thrilling touch of "Auld Lang Syne"
Would bring thy wand'ring heart to mine,
With all the faith of former years,
With all the trembling hopes and fears, &c.