 | Musa Verticordia |  |
105
THE BURIAL OF LOVE
How shall we bury the old love?
With bitter tears and deep sighing;
For oh! 'tis scarcely a cold love,
And long and hard was its dying.
With bitter tears and deep sighing;
For oh! 'tis scarcely a cold love,
And long and hard was its dying.
'Twas born in the time of roses,
Itself the fairest of flowers,
And Winter, plucking his posies,
Still spared that blossom of ours.
Itself the fairest of flowers,
And Winter, plucking his posies,
Still spared that blossom of ours.
Deep in the earth it was rooted,
But still it looked to the sky,
It budded, blossomed, and fruited,
And then it had to die.
But still it looked to the sky,
It budded, blossomed, and fruited,
And then it had to die.
106
We follow with reverence and slowly
The seraph who deigns to bear it,
And has promised in ground more holy
Than any of Earth's to inter it;
The seraph who deigns to bear it,
And has promised in ground more holy
Than any of Earth's to inter it;
But ah! to bury the old love,
It stings the heart with sighing;
For all other love is cold love,
And all the dreams are dying.
It stings the heart with sighing;
For all other love is cold love,
And all the dreams are dying.
| Musa Verticordia | |