In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days,
All, are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
Drinking late, sitting late, with my old bosom cronies,
All, are gone, the old familiar faces.
Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her-
All, are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man;
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.
Earth seemed like a desert I was bound to traverse,
Seeking to find the old familiar faces.
Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother,
Why wert thou not born in my father’s dwelling?
So might we talk of the old familiar faces-
And some are taken from me; all are departed;
All, are gone, the old familiar faces.
- Charles Lamb (January, 1798).