'Tis the hope that we hope for the days to come
That chases the dark despair;
But it lightens the load in the days that are
To dream of the days that were.
The wattle bloom is as golden still
As ever before in spring;
And joyous now as in years ago
Is the magpie's caroling.
Then what do we mourn in these bright days?
Why do we sit and sigh?
Why do we dream those sad sweet dreams
Of dead days long gone by?
The good mare gallops with stride as strong
And free as she did of yore;
The wine is red, and the friend we had
Is staunch as he was before.
Our love's dear lips are soft and warm,
The goal of our hopes is nigh;
The skies are blue! Our love is true!
Then why do we dream and sigh?
There is something vanished from out these days --
Something we miss so sore --
A mother, a child, or a faithful friend
We had learned to love of yore.
From these dear days that we dream of now
A love or a hope has flown;
And we sigh, "Ah me, how happy were we!
Would we had only known!"
The wattle will bloom in the years to come,
The world will laugh as gay;
Still we would sigh for the days gone by,
And dream of our life to-day.
Mayhap that their love's lips are cold,
Or another friend has died,
Or the good grey mare grows stiff and old,
And falters in her stride.
We will dream a dream of our life to-day
When another joy has flown;
And sigh "Ah me, how happy were we!
Would we had only known!
For we were gay but yesterday --
The sun shone brightly then --
An hour or two, and the night is through;
The sun will shine again!
'Tis the hope we hope for the days to come
That chases the dark despair;
But it lightens the load in the days that are
To dream of the days that were.
First published in The Evening Journal, 19 October 1899
Author reference sites: C.J. Dennis, Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Australian Poetry Library
See also.
