Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads Jacobite Ballads, &c. &c. By George W. Thornbury ... with illustrations by H. S. Marks |
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REGRETS. |
 | Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads |  |
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REGRETS.
One by one—yes! still they say—
So the hours will die away,
So the Aprils yield to May.
So the hours will die away,
So the Aprils yield to May.
Long ago—yes! very long—
Then I cared for mirth and song,
Then I grappled with the throng.
Then I cared for mirth and song,
Then I grappled with the throng.
Dead and gone—yes! gone away,
As the rose melts into clay,
When the frost the blossoms slay.
As the rose melts into clay,
When the frost the blossoms slay.
Come and go—ah! so we do,
Passing as the flowers and dew—
Bitter saying, yet too true.
Passing as the flowers and dew—
Bitter saying, yet too true.
‘Life is short—and art is long;’
'Tis the burden of the song,
We're repeating all day long.
'Tis the burden of the song,
We're repeating all day long.
Time flies—yes! it never sleeps,
Never mourns, and never weeps;
Dumb and calm the tyrant keeps.
Never mourns, and never weeps;
Dumb and calm the tyrant keeps.
Over now—yes! boyhood—youth,
But not my courage, not my sooth—
No, God help me! not my truth.
But not my courage, not my sooth—
No, God help me! not my truth.
| Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads | |