THEY talk about the good old days, when every sportsman rolled In luxury unlimited, with bags and heaps of gold— To hear them tell it, everyone, from earliest dawn till night, Chucked money forth like apple-cores, and spilled it left and right! There were no tight-wads in those days—the only rule they knew Was "Easy come and easy go—"or, "Pal, here's half for you!" Yes, those were simply glorious times, those days of golden youth— But let us search our memories back, and dig the long-lost truth! In those old days, the man who'd splurge, and spend a single ten, Was counted as a redhot sport, and had that name with men— And you could make yourself look bright—exceedingly alive— By the judicious spending of a solitary five! As years go on, the stories grow—a bright and flashing haze Enlarges all the memories of those exuberant days— But pin yourself to sober facts—and you'll find this is true: Those were the days, the glorious days, and money flowed—like glue! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONGS OF TRAVEL: 44 by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE QUAKER WIDOW by BAYARD TAYLOR IN THE FOREST by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS WAR DEAD by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON THREE SONNETS WRITTEN IN MID-CHANNEL: 3 by ALFRED AUSTIN TWILIGHT ON THE DESERT by ETHEL FRANCES BARNARD |