THERE is no time like the old time, when you and I were young, <br />When the buds of April blossomed, and the birds of spring-time sung! <br />The garden's brightest glories by summer suns are nursed, <br />But oh, the sweet, sweet violets, the flowers that opened first! <br /> <br />There is no place like the old place, where you and I were born, <br />Where we lifted first our eyelids on the splendors of the morn <br />From the milk-white breast that warmed us, from the clinging arms that <br />bore, <br />Where the dear eyes glistened o'er us that will look on us no more! <br /> <br />There is no friend like the old friend, who has shared our morning days, <br />No greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise <br />Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of gold; <br />But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold. <br /> <br /> <br />There is no love like the old love, that we courted in our pride; <br />Though our leaves are falling, falling, and we're fading side by side, <br />There are blossoms all around us with the colors of our dawn, <br />And we live in borrowed sunshine when the day-star is withdrawn. <br /> <br />There are no times like the old times,--they shall never be forgot! <br />There is no place like the old place,--keep green the dear old spot! <br />There are no friends like our old friends,--may Heaven prolong their <br />lives <br />There are no loves like our old loves,--God bless our loving wives!<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-time-like-the-old-time/
