 | Lyrics by John B Tabb |  |
107
SONG OF THE MORNING-GLORIES.
We wedded each a star,—
A warrior true,
That plighted faith afar
In drops of dew.
A warrior true,
That plighted faith afar
In drops of dew.
But comes the cruel Dawn:
The dew is dry;
And we, our lovers gone,
Lamenting, die.
The dew is dry;
And we, our lovers gone,
Lamenting, die.
| Lyrics by John B Tabb | |