 | Lauds |  |
14
ALL PASSES
Sweet, sweet, the lusty thrush
Sings in the evening hush:
Summer is come at last;
The grey day's over and past;
Better for birds and men.
Sings in the evening hush:
Summer is come at last;
The grey day's over and past;
Better for birds and men.
So long the East wind stayed,
So long the rose delayed,
That now 'tis midsummer
When songs must die, my dear,
And silence come again.
So long the rose delayed,
That now 'tis midsummer
When songs must die, my dear,
And silence come again.
Sing, thrush, while yet you may,
You have so brief a day,
You and the rose new-blown;
You are scarce here, you are flown;
The silence aches and stings.
You have so brief a day,
You and the rose new-blown;
You are scarce here, you are flown;
The silence aches and stings.
The rose you waited for
Is here, sweet as of yore;
And sweet's the hour and sweet
The day's long golden heat:
Alack, that songs have wings!
Is here, sweet as of yore;
And sweet's the hour and sweet
The day's long golden heat:
Alack, that songs have wings!
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