 | Measured Steps |  |
20
[Farewell, farewell, now Summer's sped]
Farewell, farewell, now Summer's sped,
Till wakes the coming year!
Farewell, farewell, the leaves are dead!
Farewell, my heart is drear!
Till wakes the coming year!
Farewell, farewell, the leaves are dead!
Farewell, my heart is drear!
I sang through all the happy times
Of Summer; now 'tis done,
I wing my flight to other climes
Still Southward, toward the Sun.
Of Summer; now 'tis done,
I wing my flight to other climes
Still Southward, toward the Sun.
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