1.I‘ve wandered tthe village,Tom,I’ve sat beneath the tree,Upon the schoolhouse playground,That sheltered you and me;But none were left tgreet me,Tom,And few were left tknow,Whplayed with me upon the green,Just forty years ago.
2.The grass was just as green,Tom,Barefooted boys at playWere sporting,just as we did then,With spirits just as gay.But the master sleeps upon the hill,Which,coated o‘er with snow,Afforded us a sliding place,Some forty years ago.
3.The old schoolhouse is altered some;The benches are replacedBy new ones very like the same Our jackknives had defaced.But the same old bricks are in the wall,The bell swings tand fro;Its music’s just the same,dear Tom,‘T was forty years ago.
4.The spring that bubbled ’neath the hill,Close by the spreading beech,Is very low;‘t was once shigh That we could almost reach;And kneeling down ttake a drink,Dear Tom,I started so,Tthink how very much I’ve changed Since forty years ago.
5.Near by that spring,upon an elm,You know,I cut your name,Your sweetheart‘s just beneath it,Tom;And you did mine the same.
Some heartless wretch has peeled the bark;’T was dying sure,but slow,Just as that one whose name you cut Died forty years ago.
6.My lids have long been dry,Tom,But tears came in my eyes:I thought of her I loved swell,Those early broken ties.I visited the old churchyard,And took some flowers tstrew Upon the graves of those we lovedJust forty years ago.
7.Some are in the churchyard laid,Some sleep beneath the sea;And none are left of our old class Excepting you and me.And when our time shall come,Tom,And we are called tgo,I hope we‘ll meet with those we loved Some forty years ago.