 | Orchids |  |
44
CE QUE N'EST PAS VRAI
Out of the crowd of women I
Have known and long have let go by,
It is alone your memory
That comes in hours of grief to me.
Have known and long have let go by,
It is alone your memory
That comes in hours of grief to me.
When eyes are blind and lips are dumb,
Your sweet and sad soul seems to come
Across the vague and distant years
To touch my brow, to stay my tears.
Your sweet and sad soul seems to come
Across the vague and distant years
To touch my brow, to stay my tears.
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