How sweet and fun is childhood
With its careless, innocent air,
Like the verdant, tangled wildwood,
Wants the training hand of care.
To the beauty that is rare,
Only seen from the eyes that venture,
Where no else would dare,
Except in dreams of adventure.
We speak with the lips and dream in the soul,
Of a better and fairer day,
And our days to that golden goal,
Are gliding and sliding away.
To the days that will not be,
For the times we only wish,
That we could all live in peace,
True happiness lies not in being rich.