 | Porphyrion |  |
124
LAMENT.
O could the fallen leaf
On the bough again be born,
The old joy, the old grief
Come fresh to the heart with morn!
Spring will bring new flowers
And morning a new song:
But I want not these, I long
For the old days, the old hours.
On the bough again be born,
The old joy, the old grief
Come fresh to the heart with morn!
Spring will bring new flowers
And morning a new song:
But I want not these, I long
For the old days, the old hours.
The kisses that I kissed,
The sweet kisses you gave,
All are gone in a mist,
Gone into Time their grave.
Could I once again
Feel that old first kiss,
This, and only this
Could heal my wound of pain.
The sweet kisses you gave,
All are gone in a mist,
Gone into Time their grave.
Could I once again
Feel that old first kiss,
This, and only this
Could heal my wound of pain.
| Porphyrion | |