 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
62
NOW, WHEN THE SPRING IS OVER.
I.
Now, when the spring is over,Now, when the summer's gone,
Why play the thoughtless lover,
With winter hurrying on?
Love needs a time of flowers,
And a lovelier sky than this;
Oh! 'tis in our youthful hours,
That Passion may dream of bliss!
II.
When the sun waxes cold in heaven,And the bleak winds sweep the plain,
And the green from the tree is riven,
And down falls the sleety rain:
When the eye no longer kindles
With the glow in a loving breast,
And the joy to a memory dwindles,
And we dream that we once were bless'd:
III.
Oh! then, how idle the fancy,To summon, by spells of art,
Or by any necromancy,
The youth that once fill'd the heart!
We only know that 'tis over,
The season of youth and spring,
And Love, that summer rover,
May sadly fold up his wing.
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |