Yes, this is the place where my boyhood br Saw its butterfly season depart: br The butterfly fluttered in sunshine, br The chrysalis lies in my heart! br br Still green are the hills in the distance, br And breathing of summer the farms, br But the years take the Present forever br To the Past with their shadowy arms. br br I wander in pathways familiar: br Old faces forget, or are blind; br The footsteps of strangers have trodden br the footprints I deem'd I would find.