 | The Burden of the Bell and Other Lyrics |  |
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OUR ELOPEMENT.
Oh, which way are you going?
Pr'ythee tell me Summer dear—
For I see your wings are plumed for flight,
And your farewell draweth near.
Oh! which way are you going?
It must be a pleasant way—
Methinks I'll plume my pinions too—
Yes mine—one moment stay,
Small farewell, sooth, have I to speak—I'll follow you straightway.
Pr'ythee tell me Summer dear—
For I see your wings are plumed for flight,
And your farewell draweth near.
Oh! which way are you going?
It must be a pleasant way—
Methinks I'll plume my pinions too—
Yes mine—one moment stay,
Small farewell, sooth, have I to speak—I'll follow you straightway.
There, now we'll go together,
For who cares to linger here,
And mark Earth's beauty fade and die,
Heaven's glory disappear.
To list the little leaping streams,
Flow on with sighing tone,
Or the winds amongst the weeping woods
Bewail the dead and gone.
For who cares to linger here,
And mark Earth's beauty fade and die,
Heaven's glory disappear.
To list the little leaping streams,
Flow on with sighing tone,
Or the winds amongst the weeping woods
Bewail the dead and gone.
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No, no, we'll go together,
You and I, and kindly tell
Each other, all the way, those tales
We love, sweet Friend, so well;
Of the years when Time, the bright and young,
Knew nought of wintry hours;
When the rosy clouds sent down alone
Cool shadows, or soft showers,
And Earth stood crowned for evermore with undecaying flowers.
You and I, and kindly tell
Each other, all the way, those tales
We love, sweet Friend, so well;
Of the years when Time, the bright and young,
Knew nought of wintry hours;
When the rosy clouds sent down alone
Cool shadows, or soft showers,
And Earth stood crowned for evermore with undecaying flowers.
Ah, Summer, thou wert fairest then,
So saith the Poet's song,
When thy revel in the radiant world,
Waned not, the whole year long;
But Summer, truer song is mine—
I'll sing it here agen—
Time groweth grey and grim, but Thou
Art lovely now as then.
So saith the Poet's song,
When thy revel in the radiant world,
Waned not, the whole year long;
But Summer, truer song is mine—
I'll sing it here agen—
Time groweth grey and grim, but Thou
Art lovely now as then.
So we'll journey on together,
On afar, o'er heath and hill,
And ere the last leaf falleth sere,
And the blast blows bleak and chill,
We'll reach our refuge, good my Queen,
Some blessed clime I know,
Where still there's sunshine up above,
And song and bloom below.
On afar, o'er heath and hill,
And ere the last leaf falleth sere,
And the blast blows bleak and chill,
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Some blessed clime I know,
Where still there's sunshine up above,
And song and bloom below.
So I pr'ythee faint not Summer—
Lo! I vow a merry vow,
That we'll dance anon together,
Underneath the full-leaved bough;
And away, away with that withered wreath,
You're wearing thus in vain!
Full soon, while birds and piping winds
Prepare their festal strain,
I'll twist a braid of opening flowers, and crown thee o'er again.
Lo! I vow a merry vow,
That we'll dance anon together,
Underneath the full-leaved bough;
And away, away with that withered wreath,
You're wearing thus in vain!
Full soon, while birds and piping winds
Prepare their festal strain,
I'll twist a braid of opening flowers, and crown thee o'er again.
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