all our yesterdays

the glass will rise and all our days return
to where they were and it will not be cold
the flock will be released out of the fold
with frost our fingers will no longer burn
the breezes that above our heads now churn
will once more be both calm and controlled
we'll pay no price as we slowly grow old
but for long years of past time we will yearn
so now the names and faces of the past
grow faint their echo we'll not for long hear
who were those folk at last we will not know
onto strange rivers we have long been cast
the burdens we have none should ever bear
and where we've been you should never go