I knew the spot upon the hill
Where checkerberries could be found.
I knew the rushes near the mill
Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound!
I knew the wood — the very tree
Where lived the poaching, saucy crow,
And all the woods and crows knew me —
But that was very long ago.
And pining for the joys of youth,
I tread the old familiar spot,
Only to learn this solemn truth:
I have forgotten, am forgot.
Yet here’s this youngster at my knee,
Knows all the things I used to know.
To think I once was wise as he! —
But that was very long ago.
I know it’s folly to complain
Of whatsoe’er the fates decree,
Yet, were not wishes all in vain,
I tell you what my wish should be:
I’d wish to be a boy again,
Back with the friends I used to know.
For I was, oh, so happy then —
But that was very long ago!