The poem
Like the ghost of a dear friend dead Is Time long past. A tone which is now forever fled, A hope which is now forever past, A love so sweet it could not last, Was Time long past.
There were sweet dreams in the night Of Time long past: And, was it sadness or delight, Each day a shadow onward cast Which made us wish it yet might last-- That Time long past.
There is regret, almost remorse, For Time long past. 'Tis like a child's belovèd corse A father watches, till at last Beauty is like remembrance, cast From Time long past.