If we do meet again
in some corner of time
it won't be the same
our lives wouldn't be in agreeable rhyme-

the present song I surmise
would have lost its glitter
to another world we'd have belonged
gone would be our joyous laughter-

youth has dreams too innocent
love resplendent it seeks fondly after
foolish and puerile in another dawn to assume
we would remember past-cherished splendour-

ah, purity, ah dreams, ah beauty
to such longing who would not surrender?
but there's a worm in even the most glorious flower
this the sad song I'm writing at this our parting hour.