The Dramatists

A string of shiny days we had, 
     A spotless sky, a yellow sun; 
And neither you nor I was sad
     When that was through and done. 

But when, one day, a boy comes by 
   And pleads me with your happiest vow, 
“There was a lad I knew—” I'll sigh; 
   “I do not know him now.”

And when another girl shall pass
   And speak a little name I said, 
Then you will say “There was a lass—
   I wonder is she dead.”

And each of us will sigh, and start 
   A-talking of a faded year, 
And lay a hand above a heart, 
   And dry a pretty tear.