Here as I sit in the dark and ponder,
Watching the firelight dance and gleam,
What brings them back to my mind, I wonder?
Those old days of laughter and dream.
Dear old days, when we roamed together
All the pathways that cross Slieve Rue,
Caring for naught in the sunny weather,
Laughing together, I and you.
Voice of the west wind, calling, calling,
Sobbing beat of the Irish rain,
Whispering leaves and waters falling,
Ay, and you by my side again;
Out of the past I hear them ringing—
All the songs of the days of old;
Hear the lark on the hillside singing,
See the gleam of the gorse's gold.
Till, as I sit in the firelight dreaming,
Watching the shadows grow apace,
Out of the long dead years comes gleaming
There in the flames your laughing face;
All the days that are past and over
Gone in the turf smoke, curling blue,
And from their wreckage I recover
Song and sunshine and youth and you.