The Garden Of Play

Out in the Garden of Childhood gay Romp three glad youngsters with merry cries, Startling the birds with their boisterous play, Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes. Ever you see them and hear them there, Morning or evening or blossomy noon, And oh, but the Garden of Youth is fair, And oh, but the years of it pass too soon!

Over the Garden arch cloudless skies, (Ah, but the skies of all Youth are blue!) Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes Find in each nook something rare and new. Cool is the shade of the coaxing trees, Bidding them hide from the sun at noon, And oh, but what glorious days are these, And oh, but the hours of them pass too soon!

Rare is the Garden with fragrant flowers (Ah, but the flowers of Youth are fair!) Garlands they weave of the golden hours, Sweet with the song of the birds in air. Splashed all the earth with a rosy light, Light of the sun at its splendid noon, And oh, but the sunshine of Youth is bright, And oh, but the light of it dies too soon!

Sweet to mine ears from the Garden gay Echo their calls and their merry cries, Startling the birds with their boisterous play, Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes. Dips the red sun to its shadowed west, These are the years of mine afternoon, And oh, but the years of my youth were best, And oh, but the joy of them passed too soon!