O life has its seasons joyous and drear,
Its summer sun and its winter snow,
But the fairest of all, I tell you, dear,
Was the sweet old spring of the long ago —
The ever and ever so long ago —
When we walked together among the flowers,
When the world with beauty was all aglow.
O the rain and dew! O the shine and showers
Of the sweet old spring of the long ago!
The ever and ever so long ago.
A hunger for all of the past delight
Is stirred by the winds that softly blow.
Can you spare me a thought from heaven to-night
For the sweet old spring of the long ago?—
The ever and ever so long ago.