I was coming home in the dead of night   In a cruel October storm   When an old grey man came into sight   His jacket sodden and torn      The mist was tangled in his hand   As I asked where is your home   He spoke as if I was not there   And his voice was cold as stone   Cold as stone      T’was in that far-off land of mine   Dear land I’ll never see   The grey church, like a ghost, stood up   and the sundial spoke to me   The grey church, like a ghost, stood up   And the sundial spoke to me   It spoke into this soul of mine   This day, this day is thine      The bright-eyed baby Bunsen flowers   showered sweetness on the spring   And in the dark green shade, I heard   Singers of the deep wood sing   And in the dark green shade, I heard   Singers of the deep wood sing   And that old sundial had it’s say   This day, no other day   No other day      No other day      The players of the playtime pass   How swift the seasons turn   For what we strive and most may love   Still never yet may earn      The old sundial, it still speaks on   This day is nearly gone   Nearly gone      Nearly gone      The kisses and the fallen dreams   Hearts that could not hold their pain   Seem holier in the mist of years   That old sundial speaks again   The tears get lost in the mist of years   And the sundial speaks again   Stern teacher, of this heart of mine, this day so lost is thine   This day is thine   My heart is lost in the mist of years   It cannot hold it’s pain   That sundial speaks in this soul of mine   This day, what’s lost, is gone   The day is gone