I would not tell you of the
Long ago it is too beautiful
And would only make you
Sad that it is gone-It was
Sad then but we knew not
Its beauty but a little.  You
Say time is like the smoke
That gets in your eyes and
Makes you cry  then it gets
In your eyes again.  Long
Ago when it was new it
Ending even then and
Some saw it like it as
It was.  Still smoke gets
In your eyes like it was
Only yesterday All that
Was True of long ago.