The music I heard oncenWas louder than it is nownI can no longer distinguishnPained cries from shouts of joynPerhaps my ears are deafnOr the interference too greatnStill the order I remembernHas given way to discordnAnd while running wild was excitingnIt was so only for a momentnFleeting as a notenLeaving an even more transparent impressionnThe music I recallnWas different than it is nownFor the new makes the old seem older than it isnTo think from thatnWe grew into a new agenSuggests that ages pastnWere not enough for adventuring soulsnFor stars too bright to be concealednIn a dark but beauteous nightnWe will paste upon the curled pages wordsnLike charming and romantic and sentimentalnForgetting that charming is witchcraftnRomantic is lovenAnd sentiment is what makes us human