A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.
{"newspaper_name": "Litchfield enquirer.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
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Where, where are all the birds that sang A hundred years ago.? The flowers that all ill beauty sprang A hundred years ago?

 The lips that smiled,

 The eyes that wild

 In flashes shone

 Soft eyes upon Where, oh where. are lips and eyes, The maiden's smiles, the lovers signs, That lived so long ago? Who peopled all the city street, A hundred years ago? Who filled the church with faces meek, A hundred years ago?

 The sneering tale

 Of sister frail,

 The plot that work'd

 A brothers hurt, Where, oh where, are plots and sneers, The poor mans hope, the rich mans fears, That lived so long ago? Where are the graves where dead men slep A hundred years ago? Who were they the living wept A hundred years ago?

 By other men

 That knew not them,

 Their lands are til'd:

 Their graves are filled: Yet nature then was just as gay; And bright the sun shone as to-day, A hundred years ago!